text:
First published by Pitch Publishing, 2015

Pitch Publishing

A2 Yeoman Gate

Yeoman Way

Durrington

BN13 3QZ

www.pitchpublishing.co.uk

© David Tossell, 2015

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## **Contents**

Acknowledgements

Introduction: The Only Way Is Up

1 Games Without Frontiers

2 The Winner Takes It All

3 Can You Handle It?

4 You Might Need Somebody

5 Hand Held in Black and White

6 Don't You Want Me

7 Eye of the Tiger

8 Down Under

9 Somebody's Watching Me

10 It's a Hard Life

11 A New England

12 Welcome to the Pleasuredome

13 Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

14 Land of Confusion

15 Every Loser Wins

16 Causing a Commotion

17 I Don't Want to Talk About It

18 Right Back Where We Started From

Appendix 1: England's Test results in the 1980s

Appendix 2: England's One-Day International results in the 1980s

Appendix 3: County cricket winners in the 1980s

Appendix 4: Notes on Chapter Headings

Bibliography

Photographs

## **ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I BEGAN the 1980s as a nineteen-year-old journalism student and finished them as a father and a member of a national newspaper sports desk, where much of my time in the final two years of the decade seemed to be devoted to designing pages and writing headlines that reflected the latest disaster to befall the England cricket team.

In between I watched and listened to a lot of Test cricket, but only when I began researching this book did I realise how much of the detail of those years I had forgotten. I am grateful, therefore, to the many players, authors and correspondents whose books, newspaper reports and magazine articles have been so important to this project. I have endeavoured to acknowledge as many as possible in this book's bibliography, but apologise now for any omissions. I must commend all those fans who have lovingly made so many of the decade's key cricketing moments easily available on YouTube.

Special thanks are due to the England players of the era to whom I have spoken during my research for this and other books: Paul Allott, Bill Athey, Rob Bailey, Roland Butcher, David Capel, Tim Curtis, Nick Cook, Paul Downton, Richard Ellison, John Emburey, Graeme Fowler, David Gower, Ian Greig, Alan Knott, John Lever, Pat Pocock, Derek Pringle, Jack Richards, Tim Robinson, Gladstone Small and Bob Willis.

Laura Wagg at Press Association has been as helpful as ever in sourcing photography, while others who have offered valuable assistance in a variety of ways include Chris Kelly, Nicky Higgs, Gavin Megaw, James Motley, Daniel Norcross, Nick Pike, Rob Pritchard, Rob Steen and Andrew Walpole. Paul Camillin and Jane Camillin at Pitch Publishing continue to offer fantastic support to their authors and Duncan Olner did his usual terrific job on the jacket design. Thanks also to Dean Rockett for his diligent editing.

I am grateful to the Professional Cricketers' Association for agreeing that royalties from this book should go to its Benevolent Fund (registered charity number: 1120088). The fund is part of the PCA's commitment to supporting current and former players and their families in times of hardship or medical need; and to helping cricketers readjust to life beyond the sport. The Benevolent Fund can be found at www.thepca.co.uk/benevolent_fund and via Twitter at @PCABenevolent.

As always, final mention is reserved for my family. I have long since given up expecting that my daughters, Amy, Sarah, Laura and Karis, will ever understand their father's love of cricket, while my wife Sara has far too many of her evenings interrupted by my tapping away on the laptop. Collectively, they are the middle order that holds together the innings of my life.

## **INTRODUCTION**

'We been broken down
To the lowest turn
And been on the bottom line
Sure ain't no fun'

_The Only Way Is Up,_ written by George Jackson and Johnny Henderson, performed in 1988 by Yazz and the Plastic Population

SUNDAY 7 August 1988 was shaping up as one of the better days among the England cricket team's chaotic narrative of the 1980s. It was, after all, a rest day. No further punishment could be administered by the unforgiving bats of opposing batsmen; no blood spilt or brains scrambled by the assassins who masqueraded as bowlers.

The West Indies, who seemed to have spent most of the decade beating up their current hosts, had gone to bed the previous night knowing they needed only another 156 runs on Monday to wrap up a 4-0 victory, their openers having already put an untroubled 71 on the board. The fact that England had drawn the first match of the series meant they would at least avoid the 5-0 humiliation of their last two encounters with the undisputed champions of Test cricket. Yet this summer, with its desultory weather and even more miserable performance, had in some ways become an even greater debacle. 'The morale and reputation of English cricket has seldom been as severely bruised as it was during 1988,' West Indian observer Tony Cozier would comment in the following year's _Wisden_.

While that morning's news pages triumphed Prince Andrew's return from naval duties in Singapore to be with his wife Sarah as she entered the final stages of her first pregnancy, national pride was in short supply within the sports sections. Killing time and filling column inches between the dissection of the England football team's hapless efforts in the European Championship finals and the start of the Football League's centenary season, cricket writers strained to find new angles on the shambles unfolding before them. On this particular day their focus was the finger Graham Gooch had injured in the field, forcing him to miss the last rites of the series and leaving Derek Pringle, temporarily, as his country's fifth captain of the season.

It had been bewildering enough that a group of selectors who seemed to believe their performance was judged by the quantity of their nominations had chosen twenty-three players to face the West Indies. The fact that four skippers had been appointed in five games was downright embarrassing. The third of them, Chris Cowdrey, had been such an unexpected choice that he turned up at Headingley for the pinnacle of his career and was refused entry by a gatekeeper who had no idea who he was. The selectors would quickly forget about him too.

It's doubtful that the men picking the England team were big Radio 1 listeners. They'd have been no more likely to locate it on the dial than to chance upon a combination capable of beating the West Indies. The closest they would have got to pop music that day was if they'd tuned in to Radio 4's _Desert Island Discs_ , where Sue Lawley was interviewing the outspoken Northern Irish politician, the Rev. Ian Paisley. But for much of the younger generation, Sundays were defined by the announcement of the new chart positions. Just before 7pm Bruno Brookes, sitting in his west London studio, told the country that it had a new number one record; a high-tempo dance number performed by Yazz and the Plastic Population. 'The Only Way Is Up' seemed to have been released specifically to mock English cricket; a taunt rather than a statement of optimism. Its singer was even half-West Indian, for heaven's sake.

'We've been broken down,' the song began. Mike Gatting, his nose smashed so thoroughly by Malcolm Marshall in 1986 that a piece of bone was embedded in the ball, could attest to that. So could Andy Lloyd, his one appearance as an England batsman ended by a Marshall bouncer to the head; or Paul Terry, his arm fractured by Winston Davis.

As it turned out, England's fortunes had not quite yet reached 'the lowest turn'. There was a little further to fall in the ensuing twelve months. When they lost 4-0 to Australia in the final summer of the decade, using a staggering twenty-nine players this time, it meant they had lost five consecutive home series – one against each of the five other major Test-playing countries – without winning a single match. England's only success in their final twenty-three Test matches of the '80s had been in a one-off game against Sri Lanka.

Of course, there had been high points earlier in the decade. No one who lived through the remarkable Ashes summer of 1981 will ever forget it. Victory in India, always a rare treat, was achieved under David Gower, while the 2-1 triumph of Mike Gatting's team in Australia is assured of a permanent place in history. There was even a World Cup Final appearance.

As football had sunk further into the backside of public perception with each sickening tale of hooliganism and tragedy at its grounds, English cricket had an opportunity to reach deep into its heart, especially after the imagination-grabbing events of 1981 and another vanquishing of the old enemy four years later, smack in the middle of the anti-football zeitgeist in the wake of the Bradford and Heysel tragedies. Instead, it spent the decade fighting football for space on the tabloid front pages – whether for its best player, Ian Botham, being banned for smoking marijuana; its captain, Gatting, losing his job after the lewd hotel bedroom accusations of a barmaid; or the rebel teams of Gooch and Gatting flying to South Africa in the face of global political opinion.

The severe ups and downs of the England team reflected the extremes of boom-and-bust Britain in the '80s. As well as yuppie city slickers in red braces making fortunes on the money markets and Harry Enfield's 'Loadsamoney' character flaunting his wad of cash, this was the decade that brought the devastation and deprivation of the miners' strike and the bleak landscape of Alan Bleasdale's _Boys from the Blackstuff_ , with the pathetic Yosser Hughes every bit as identifiable with the decade as Enfield's cash-rich plasterer.

In the decade's final reckoning English cricket was more Yosser than Loadsamoney. The Test team began by equalling the worst sequence in their history when they went twelve games without a win over 1980 and 1981. Seemingly rudderless at the top and working their way through ten changes of captain, they proceeded to eclipse that streak by managing thirteen games without victory between 1983 and 1984 and topped it all with an eighteen-game winless run from 1987 to 1988. In the fall-out from such futility, everything was blamed: from the state of county wickets and the increase in limited-overs cricket to poor preparation, planning, team management and a basic lack of talent. All played their part to some degree.

But while England were either very bad or remarkably good out in the middle, they could be relied upon to provide endless intrigue off the field. Barely a tour went by without some kind of drama: banishment from Guyana and the tragedy of Ken Barrington in the West Indies; the political threat to the 1981-82 Indian tour, which ended with Geoff Boycott's banishment and the team ripped apart by the first South African recruits; accusations of drugs and orgies in New Zealand in 1983-84; political assassinations in India in 1984-85; Gatting almost coming to blows with umpire Shakoor Rana in Pakistan in 1987-88.

Win or lose, England's cricket team in the 1980s was never less than the most compelling of soap operas. The first episode was set in Australia in the opening days of the new decade.

## **1
GAMES WITHOUT FRONTIERS**

'Where there is discord, may we create harmony'

– Margaret Thatcher quoting St Francis of Assisi outside Downing Street in May 1979

GEOFF Boycott, a man who appeared to live purely for the purpose of scoring runs, didn't want to play. No matter that the past few weeks in Australia had seen him in some of the best form of his sixteen-year international career, taking runs off the West Indian pacemen and the formidable home duo of Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson. He had a bad neck and England's first Test match of a new decade was, he'd decided, no place to be taking chances with any kind of disability.

Boycott had celebrated the arrival of 1980 by spending New Year's Day doing what he loved most: batting in the nets. His main concern had been discovering whether he was burdened by the little finger he had dislocated when slipping in a golf course bunker in Sydney. He'd also been suffering from what he thought was merely a stiff neck, but which team physiotherapist Bernard Thomas would later diagnose as a form of whiplash suffered in the same incident.

By the morning of the Test at the Sydney Cricket Ground – the second of three against the old enemy in this uniquely-constructed triangular season – Boycott had taken to wearing a scarf to keep his neck warm. His team-mates responded by tying napkins around their necks when he appeared at breakfast. Boycott confided in Thomas his doubts that he was fit enough to play. Knowing that rain might allow a delay in team selection, Thomas advised him to say nothing to captain Mike Brearley for now. Instead, Boycott headed to the indoor nets, where reserve bowlers Graham Stevenson and John Lever gave him and his neck a thorough examination.

'I told Brearley that I was not fit to play,' said Boycott. Yet the England captain was not about to accept the loss of the man who had single-handedly defied the Australian bowlers in their defeat in the opening match of the series.

This was far from being the two men's first conflict of the tour. Even though his form had been light years from his struggles in the same country a year earlier, when he'd been affected by the death of his mother and rows over his future at Yorkshire, Boycott was not exactly a carefree tourist. He felt practice sessions had been too light-hearted; that Brearley had failed to impose the necessary level of discipline; and that his own experience was being undervalued. Players not caring whether they held their catches during slip practice, or Ian Botham bowling to Derek Randall off twenty-one yards and bouncing the ball clear out of the nets led him to speak of an 'unforgivably lackadaisical approach' by the England team. Later in the tour he would recall reporting to nets at 9.50am before a day's play at Melbourne and finding no one ready to bowl at him. 'Of all the tours I have been on I have never known so much skylarking,' he would write.

When Brearley had asked him to take a look at the wicket in Perth prior to the first Test a few weeks earlier, his initial response had been that his advice had not been wanted before so why should he give it now? Bob Willis, who had been touring with Boycott for nine years, suggested, 'Our experience of him as captain in Pakistan in 1977-78 burnt a lot of bridges. I don't think people respected him as a leader; his individual batting always got in the way. Some of the younger Yorkshire lads like Graham Stevenson and David Bairstow had empathy with him, but after that experience I don't recall many of the others going to Geoffrey for advice'.

According to Graham Gooch, Boycott also felt piqued at Brearley's reluctance to ask him to assist with his own technique at the crease. So when Brearley sought an opinion about the playing surface, Boycott had told him, 'Bugger it' before later apologising for the spur-of-the-moment expression of his frustration and agreeing to share his thoughts. But now England's premier batsman and the team captain were at loggerheads again. Gooch described Brearley 'going spare' at Boycott's insistence that he was unfit. 'Heated words were exchanged and I was practically forced to play,' Boycott remembered.

The tone for English cricket's chaotic and controversy-ridden decade had been set before a single ball had been bowled. Welcome to the 1980s.

For Brearley, who'd enjoyed an unbroken sequence of success since inheriting the England captaincy in the wake of the sport's Kerry Packer-led revolution in 1977, Boycott's reluctance to play was the latest annoyance on a tour that had begun amid political discord and had continued along a path of constant acrimony.

The schedule had been fashioned from the peace that had broken out after two years of World Series Cricket, the tournament set up by Australian media owner Packer in response to the Australian Cricket Board's refusal to consider his bid to purchase their television rights. Packer had hitched his own ambitions to the vulnerability and dissatisfaction of underpaid cricketers around the world and taken on the authorities with his own series of 'Supertests' and one-day contests.

Recruiting the entire Australian and West Indies teams and hiring England captain Tony Greig to sign up a significant English, Pakistani and South African contingent, Packer had been more successful in damaging the established game than he had in attracting people to his own brand of hard-fought, highly-commercialised cricket. However, once he had secured the rights to real grounds such as the SCG in his second season and hit upon the winning formula of one-day internationals under floodlights, the balance of power had shifted in his favour.

By the end of world cricket's second year of division, during which the official Australian team surrendered an Ashes series 5-1 at home to Brearley's England, it was clear that a truce was not far away. The ACB had lost £400,000 (more than A$800,000) over that period and, although WSC could afford to sustain its own losses, estimated at up to £3m, Packer readily shut down operations in exchange for the slice of official cricket that he coveted. In the end, the peace settlement offered him a considerable helping.

The ACB had already been planning a joint-tour summer, featuring India, untouched by WSC, and England, whose fortunes had improved during the Packer era after losing mostly players nearing the end of Test careers. Those plans changed at the end of April 1979 when the ACB granted its broadcasting rights to Packer's Channel 9.

ACB treasurer Ray Steele might not have stood and given the unification speech that Margaret Thatcher would attempt outside 10 Downing Street after being voted in as prime minister a couple of weeks later – the event that would do most to define Britain's coming decade – but the Australian board did appear to be bending over backwards to ensure that harmony prevailed in the sport.

Along with the TV deal, another of Packer's companies, PBL Ltd, was awarded ten-year promotional rights to the sport, for which the ACB received $1.7m per year. Packer settled up with the sixty-eight players he had under contract and one of the most extraordinary episodes in cricket's history was over.

Its legacy remained, however, in the proposed format of the forthcoming Australian summer. India were paid off in return for delaying their visit for twelve months, allowing the West Indies to take their place in a schedule that owed much to WSC. Australia would play three Tests against each of their visitors, with the opponents alternating, and the three teams would participate in a series of fifty-over internationals, spread throughout the course of the season and played under WSC branding. It was Packer cricket under an official banner.

The Test and County Cricket Board, English cricket's ruling body and forerunner of the ECB, saw as ironic the ACB's energetic endorsement of new one-day innovations like white balls and coloured clothing, having been such reluctant adopters of limited-overs cricket in the first place. Since staging the first one-day international in 1971 as a way of recouping money from a washed-out Melbourne Test, Australia had played only two more home ODIs until staging a five-game series against England in 1978-79 – a direct response to the amount of one-day cricket offered by Packer.

In a long and somewhat inappropriate eve-of-season speech in front of players and officials from all three teams, Steele went to great pains to point out that there had been no giving in to Packer. At one point he noted, 'The concessions we have made have been very minor.' The view of many was that if the issue of television rights had been 'minor', what had everyone been fighting for during the past two years?

England, committed to visiting Australia even before a truce was declared, had been torn between whole-heartedly supporting cricket's peace process and maintaining what they felt was the integrity of the sport. Opposed to coloured clothing, their compromise was to use coloured pads and gloves, although they insisted on pure white kit as opposed to the outfits trimmed with stripes that were adopted by Australia and the West Indies. They also refused to play with a white ball except in day-night games and rejected the use of a new white ball at each end, even though they subsequently complained in warm-up games about how quickly the ball became dirty.

With much of the negotiation on playing conditions having been unresolved before the team's arrival, it was left to the soft-spoken Cambridge graduate Brearley – already seen by Aussie fans as an over-educated, stuck-up Pom – to become the face of the TCCB's opposition to some of the new proposals. 'I was seen by the man in the Sydney street as the embodiment of all that's bad in the British,' he said.

Brearley announced a refusal to adopt the circle that restricted field placings, reasoning that his players had not experienced it in the manner of those who had played in Packer cricket. 'Australia and West Indies can play with green balls and hockey sticks if they like,' he stated. 'Our agreement was to play under existing laws if there was any disagreement.' Almost as if to underline his point, Brearley would subsequently station all his fielders, including wicketkeeper David Bairstow, on the boundary for the final ball of a match in which the West Indies needed three runs to win.

Ironically, he would also create more antipathy with the Australian public when, on the eve of the second Test of the tour, he said he was unable to place fielders on the boundary because of fear of missiles thrown by the fans. 'Someone is going to get killed one day in front of an Australian crowd,' he stated. 'There is so much hostility towards us that my players are at greater risk than anyone else.' Claiming that Bairstow had been hit by a piece of metal when he made his infamous journey, Brearley added, 'There is enough evidence of heavy objects being thrown on to the field to prove a serious threat'.

Australian fans had been angered when the TCCB announced two weeks before the tour that the Ashes, won twice under Brearley's leadership, would not be at stake in a three-match series. Australia cited their willingness to play for the urn in a four-Test series after the inaugural World Cup in England in 1975, but it was pointed out that in all respects other than the length, that particular series had been played under normal touring conditions with plenty of opportunity for first-class practice matches and no one-day games disrupting preparation. Also established was the principle that future England tours, beginning with the 1982-83 visit, would revert to the traditional format.

Where the TCCB had been more willing to compromise was in the matter of money. Fearful of being asked to pay too much in return to future Australian touring sides, they settled for a £30,000 fee. That amounted to less than £2,000 per team when passed on to the counties, who at that time paid around three times that per season to a single capped professional.

While only a few of their players had taken the $30,000-per-year contracts offered by Packer, England's Test team had enjoyed much greater wealth since Greig had sacrificed the captaincy and defected to WSC with the promise that all players at all levels would soon benefit from this revolution. Paid only £210 per home Test before Packer came along, England's players were now receiving more than £1,000 per game thanks to the TCCB's sponsorship deal with Cornhill Insurance.

For this tour they would receive a basic amount of £6,500, plus a bonus of £200 for each previous tour and the £2,500 they had been promised under the shadow of the Packer threat for keeping themselves available for the winter programme. Although it made them England's highest-paid tourists, it was still barely two-thirds of what was being paid to most of their opponents – and their own Derek Underwood – who would receive the value of their final-year Packer contracts after, in effect, being leased back to their national teams.

According to Boycott, the authorities' attitude to rewarding its players reverted to its previous parsimonious state once their alternative employer had disappeared from the scene. 'Suddenly there was no money after all,' he said. 'Suddenly we had to fight tooth and nail for a realistic wage for the most hectic winter tour an England side had ever undertaken'.

The potential inclusion of Packer players had created much speculation about the make-up of the England touring party. In the end, the only returnee was Underwood, whose 100-wicket domestic season in 1979 saw him chosen for the slow left-armer's role ahead of Phil Edmonds, even though the Middlesex man was being mentioned as a possible successor to Brearley. Edmonds himself said he was not so surprised; others believed that he should have at least been on the plane alongside Underwood, the veteran of more than seventy Tests.

Edmonds's disappointing tour twelve months earlier – and reported fall-out with Brearley – had counted against him, while Underwood's lack of batting ability appeared to weigh against another Middlesex spinner, John Emburey, who was left out even after sixteen wickets at 19.13 in the 1978-79 series. Instead, Northamptonshire's Peter Willey and Derbyshire's Geoff Miller were chosen as off-spinners, apparently because Underwood's presence meant that a second spinner would need to hold down a place in the middle order.

The wild card among an experienced group of seamers was Graham Dilley, a twenty-year-old from Kent with a shock of blond hair and a square-chested action that, with its extravagant wind-up, could generate impressive pace. The promise of Australia's bouncy wickets persuaded the selectors to give him a place.

Yet by the time of the first Test in Perth, in which Dilley would become the youngest England player for three decades, it was Boycott who was grabbing the Australian cricket public's attention. The man they had written off as a spent force a year earlier had rediscovered, at thirty-nine, his appetite and ability. After first-class centuries in back-to-back warm-up games, he had rammed the decision to omit him from the first one-day international against the West Indies back down the tour selectors' throats. Angered by the obvious implication that he was not adaptable enough for limited-overs games – which rankled even more when he saw Brearley opening – he scored 68 and 105 when called up for games against Australia. In particular, the century at Sydney, where he married invention and imagination to his usual technical correctness, put observers in mind of the young Boycott's scintillating hundred in the 1965 Gillette Cup Final. 'It felt as though a lot of years had slipped off my shoulders,' he confessed.

It was a blow to England, then, when he fell for a duck in his first innings of the Test series after Brearley had won the toss and seen Ian Botham's six wickets restrict Australia to 244. It was Brearley's own gutsy 64 that did most to lift England to within sixteen of that total, but after Allan Border dominated the latter half of Australia's second innings to score 115, the tourists faced a deficit of 353 with more than a day remaining. Only Boycott offered resistance as left-armer Geoff Dymock, the least illustrious of the many seamers at Australia's disposal, chipped away with accuracy and intelligence. He was left agonisingly unbeaten on 99 when Willis became Dymock's sixth victim and the match was lost by 138 runs.

'The plan was that he would face Lillee and I would face Geoff Dymock,' Willis recalled, 'but he hit a ball through mid-wicket off Lillee, which would have given him an easy three and his hundred. But I turned down the third run and when I faced Dymock I got out first ball. Geoffrey was left not out 99, which he was not very happy about. It took him about ten minutes to walk off the ground'.

More than Boycott's near miss or Botham's eleven wickets, the match would be remembered for the antics of Lillee, who held up play while he argued to be allowed to use an aluminium bat. Having, he said, warned the authorities of his intent and received no objection, he had not banked on Brearley's rapid intervention to point out the damage the bat was doing to the ball. After returning to the pavilion he reappeared with the offending bat and it took the arrival on-field of Greg Chappell to persuade him to relinquish it – which he did by hurling it across the grass. That he survived with little more than a rap on the knuckles was thought by many to be a sign of Lillee's importance both to the new promoters of the sport and to the recently-united Australian team.

Thus did England's new decade begin with the prospect of a Test match in which defeat would mean a first series loss since the West Indies beat them 3-0 in the scorching summer of 1976. The last thing they needed was a morning-of-the-match row between captain and premier batsman, especially on top of the simmering tension between the two.

While Boycott had continued to fume over 'bad time-keeping, lack of attention to detail, sloppy attitudes [and] lack of professionalism', Brearley, forced to walk the finest of lines between politician and team leader, had never felt such pressure on any tour. Even his decision to grow a dark, bushy beard to give him a more aggressive, assertive appearance had backfired when revolution in Iran saw a new religious leader come to power just as the tour was getting under way. Brearley would now be saddled throughout with the nickname 'Ayatollah'.

_Wisden_ described the treatment of Brearley as 'a disgraceful campaign', which included homemade banners in the stands – one of which awarded him 'The Gold Medallion Award for Greatest Winger _(sic)_ '. In Melbourne, so much abuse was directed at the England captain that Australian team manager John Edwards said those responsible made him ashamed. 'It must be hoped that no future captain is ever landed with such a burden,' _Wisden_ concluded.

Of course, the opposition were not making life any easier. The Australian team Brearley now faced was by far the strongest foe of a captaincy reign that had begun in 1977 with the 3-0 Ashes win over a team distracted by its involvement with Packer and had peaked with the previous winter's retention of the urn. According to Willis, 'The Australian full-strength side was a very different kettle of fish to the third eleven we had beaten a year earlier'.

The home team could choose from a pool of forty players with Test experience, while uncapped talents like Geoff Lawson and Terry Alderman were unable to force their way in. And, of course, the West Indies' devastating batsmen and fearsome fast bowlers were waiting for England in the one-day shadows.

Brearley would come to accept that much of Boycott's criticism of his 'casual sort of captaincy' was justified. Even as someone whose preferred method was to encourage self-discipline among his players, Brearley recognised that he should have taken a more 'dictatorial' approach but said that other pressures left him without the energy to do so.

Having found the resolve to persuade Boycott into playing at Sydney, Brearley was insistent once more when it came to the matter of when the Test started. The ground staff's time off over a rainy New Year had left the pitch damp and grassy by the morning of the match. Australian captain Greg Chappell, aware that the toss under such circumstances could more or less decide the game, was opposed to beginning on the first day. Brearley, prepared to gamble on which way the coin fell, insisted on playing. He called incorrectly and forty-three overs later the series was as good as lost. England were all out for 123 and would be defeated with a day to spare. Brearley shut the dressing-room door at the close of the first day and ripped into his players one by one, even though Australia – who had just suffered the first of two heavy defeats in their series against the West Indies – would quite possibly have lost this match had luck been against them. 'The Test was virtually reduced to the toss of a coin,' admitted Chappell.

England's collapse, precipitated by some lazy shots, was even more of a disappointment given that the line-up around Boycott appeared superior to the ill-conceived selection at Perth. There, Nottinghamshire's Derek Randall, a notoriously fidgety, stroke-making middle-order man, had opened; Willey had batted number three, a couple of places higher than he did for Northants; and number five had been occupied by Miller, who had never scored a first-class century. What upset the balance was the self-acknowledged deficiencies at Test level of Brearley, a career opener who felt compelled to bat at seven. 'A travesty and an admission of his shortcomings,' Boycott grumbled. The Sydney recall of Graham Gooch for Miller, who had returned home with a back injury, allowed Randall and Willey to occupy more natural places in the order.

Trailing by only 22, England's greater resolve in the second innings was evidenced by Underwood lasting until lunch on day three after being sent in as nightwatchman. David Gower missed as often as he connected in reaching 50, after which his innings blossomed into a bouquet of colourful off-side drives off either foot and thrilling pulls and hooks. As with Boycott in the previous Test, Gower's hopes of a century, which would have been his fourth since his 1978 debut, depended on the survival of last man Willis. Those hopes disappeared with Greg Chappell's low catch in the slips, leaving the Leicestershire man on 98, the highlight of his tour.

'You realise that at any stage if you don't perform you can be vulnerable, which I proved within a year or two of that,' Gower explained. 'But it was not something I got on the plane to Australia thinking about. Having had a good tour there the year before, I was looking forward to playing against a better Australian team and anticipating doing well. Personally, the tour didn't go as well as I wanted it to go, bar that one innings. It was an early education in the ups and downs of Test cricket'.

Australia had been left needing 216 to win. With the scores level and Chappell on 94, Botham generously offered up a long-hop, but Chappell couldn't quite clear the ropes. He greeted victory by claiming, 'As far as we're concerned the Ashes were up for grabs, and we've won them'.

The final Test of the series came after England had reached, and lost, the final of the one-day tournament. Expected to be no more than fodder in this format for their WSC-hardened opponents, England had surprised with some enterprising performances, relegating the Aussies to third place in the standings by winning all four games against them and putting up a decent fight against the West Indies before going down 2-0 in the final series. As well as the rejuvenated Boycott, who averaged 85 and passed 50 in five of his six matches, Yorkshire contributed some spirited match-winning performances down the order from Bairstow and Stevenson.

Surprisingly overshadowed by his opening partner in the shorter game, Gooch found his best form in the third Test in Melbourne, falling an agonising single short of a first Test century. Having added 116 with Boycott, Gooch watched another middle-order surrender before attempting a foolish single in the last over before tea. His innings, full of lusty drives, had deserved that extra run, but his attempt to steal it against the arm of Kim Hughes at mid-off made him the seventh man in Test cricket to be run out for 99. Gooch described Ian Chappell looking at him as he departed 'as though I had a screw loose'. The milestone he missed would have been fine reward for the progress he had made on tour. Boycott, in particular, took delight in the fact that his partner was working on his game just as hard at the end of the tour as at the beginning and continued to be amazed at his omission from the first Test.

While Lillee cleaned up the lower order on his way to a six-wicket haul, Brearley, batting on this troubled tour better than he ever had as England captain, defied the bowlers for a four-hour unbeaten 60. England's 306 was their highest score of the series, but was eclipsed by an Australian reply that produced two century partnerships and a sixteenth Test century for Greg Chappell after he'd spent the rest day on 99 not out.

Trailing by 171, England slumped to 88 for 5 on a wicket still offering some nip for the seamers. Yet in a foretaste of what would occur at Headingley eighteen months later, Botham took the game into his own hands to give the scorecard a respectable air. He attacked the boundary with thumps and pulls off the back foot and slogs and sweeps against the slow bowlers. Most impressive was his powerful straight driving, bringing up his 50 and 100 (after exactly 200 minutes) with such shots before finishing unbeaten on 119.

The nerves that would inflict Australia in small run chases in 1981 showed no sign of materialising here as they knocked off the 103 for victory with the loss of only two wickets, Greg Chappell forcing them across the line with a flurry of shots that enabled him to catch an early flight back to his family in Brisbane.

### **Brass in Pocket**

The winter of 1979-80 had officially consigned Kerry Packer's unsanctioned cricket to the footnotes of the sport's history. Yet the act of waving his cheque book under the noses of the world's leading players would continue to have a ripple effect on cricket throughout the 1980s and beyond. Its professionals would never again be quite such poor relations to their counterparts in football. England's Test players were already earning six times as much per Test as in pre-Packer days and even county cricketers would soon find their lot improved.

Ian Greig, who followed brother Tony into the England team for a brief spell in 1982 but was more county pro than international star, recalled, 'There was a time, it was around 1980-81, when I was playing in Queensland and a new offer had been made to me by Sussex. I'd had a reasonable county season and I was down at Tony's for Christmas. I said, "What do you think, mate? Should I accept this?" He just shook his head and walked away for a while. When he came back he said, "I cannot believe this, Ian. People said I did this for myself. People said I was a selfish bastard and this wasn't going to help anyone. I said that this was going to help every cricketer around the world and here you are three years after the event being offered more than I was on when I was captain of Sussex and captain of England."'

Yet to suggest that English cricketers would go through the '80s in a blur of gleaming technological gadgetry, new Audi Quattros and Duran Duran-style yachts would be a gross exaggeration. For the established England players who played upwards of ten Tests per year, who went on tour and earned the game's fatter county contracts, life was comfortable – especially if one could pick up a few commercial endorsements along the way. By 1984, _Wisden_ estimated Ian Botham was raking in £40,000 per year. But no one was ever going to be set for life.

Outlining his ability to earn somewhere in the region of £12,000, including bonuses, for England duty in the winter of 1984-85, Vic Marks noted that it was 'far less than my non-cricketing friends imagine' and could be quickly eaten into if a tourist wanted his wife to accompany him for any length of time. 'Constant separation both at home in the summer and during the winter inevitably takes its toll and it surprises me that the TCCB does not help finance our wives' travelling expenses as any other overseas employer would,' he wrote in _Marks Out of XI_.

For those denied a ticket on England's winter excursions there loomed the county professional's annual search for winter employment and long hours staring at a diminishing bank balance. 'Financially it was still fantastic for us to play for England,' said batsman Tim Robinson. 'I don't recall exactly what percentage of your county salary it was but it wasn't far off doubling it. So the financial incentive of playing for England at that time was enormous. But if you weren't in the team you did have to find another job – simple as that. I had a contract with Gunn and Moore, so most winters I used to do promotional work for them'.

For someone such as all-rounder Phil DeFreitas, elevated to the England team to tour Australia in 1986-87 after only one full season in the Leicestershire side, the comparative riches offered by international cricket were startling. After being told of his selection by a Grace Road gateman who had heard it on the radio, DeFreitas recalled, 'At some point it registered with me that I would be paid £10,000 for the tour – five times what I had earned for a full season with my county'.

Yet the tale of spinner Nick Cook's call-up for the 1987-88 Pakistan tour is equally illuminating. 'I heard about it on the radio,' he explained. 'I had just lined up a six-month trip to Perth to play club cricket for Wanneroo and I was showing this couple around the house. They were going to rent it. Going to Pakistan on that tour cost me about £3,000, but you would have looked an idiot if you had turned down England. So I went on tour, was worse off, and was then left high and dry for the rest of the winter – no money, no job – until I went back to Northants in April. That cannot be right. But we had no power to do anything about it'.

Eddie Hemmings was another who lost money because of playing for England that winter. Involvement in a World Cup and Test matches cost the Nottinghamshire off-spinner 'three lucrative months of fundraising' as part of his benefit programme.

The benefit season, which could be a combination of innovative entrepreneurship and undignified begging, continued to be an important financial landmark for most county players, including those with international opportunities. During the summer of 1980 John Lever had set an Essex record by pocketing a reported £66,410, and by the end of the decade successful campaigns were reaping six-figure sums. The system helped out the counties as much as the players. Essex, one of the more successful teams on-field but without an international ground to boost revenue, finished that 1980 season with a profit of £10,840, a fraction of Lever's bonus. Hampshire, meanwhile, reported a £5,717 loss after membership fell by around fifteen per cent to 5,800.

Yet Hemmings continued, 'I had always found the benefit system demeaning. Many players before and since have virtually ignored their game for twelve months and gone round holding the begging bowl to secure a future for themselves and their families. The decision not to spend all my waking hours on fundraising probably cost the Hemmings household a small fortune. I ended the year with only £22,750 when other Test players were passing the £100,000 mark'.

In many circles, the feeling persisted throughout the 1980s that cricketers – because they were undoubtedly better off than a decade earlier – should be completely content with their lot and grateful for whatever they got. By the mid-'80s county wages were roughly three times what they had been in 1979. England regulars were earning upwards of £30,000, more like four times the amount in the final pre-Packer days.

Examining the game's finances in 1986, _Wisden_ noted cricketers' long winter not as a period of potentially stressful unemployment, but said instead that 'the seven-month close-season affords other earning opportunities'. For many, however, such income would still be lifeblood rather than gravy.

Counties had grudgingly agreed to trial a minimum wage in 1979, set at £4,500. Arguments against such a scheme included the clubs' different levels and structures of pay – with players at some teams relying more heavily on bonuses and appearance money – and the counties' claim that they couldn't afford the resulting increased wage bill. It was pointed out to the traditionally lower-paying clubs that at least this better protected them from losing their top players to wealthier teams. By mid-decade that minimum mark for capped players had risen to £7,665 and approximately a third of counties were thought to be paying average salaries comfortably in excess of that figure. County cricket's total wage bill would be estimated to have risen from £700,000 in 1978 to more than £2m in 1985.

To the credit of the England players, they supported the general notion that the gap between international and county wages at the beginning of the decade was too high and accepted only small increases over the next few years. For the counties' part, their ability to generate more income from off-season use of facilities went only so far towards meeting their salary commitments, leaving them increasingly reliant on the TCCB channelling its income in their direction. By 1985, the ruling body, according to _Wisden_ , was earning £2,321,000 from marketing and sponsorship contracts, almost five times the amount of 1977, the final summer before Packer entered the sport.

Yet England's leading Test cricketers were still only taking home the kind of money journeymen First Division footballers had been making more than a decade earlier. It partly explains why, when sponsors came calling with the offer of lucrative trips to South Africa on unofficial England tours – as they would in 1982 and 1989 – there was no shortage of men willing to risk international careers for the kind of money impossible to earn within establishment cricket.

Even DeFreitas, who increased his county salary to £10,000 in a move to Lancashire before the 1989 season, came close to accepting a contract to tour South Africa later that year, despite the obvious political minefield he would have been stepping into as a Caribbean-born visitor. 'I felt like I was being paid peanuts by England so when I looked down and saw the figure of £75,000 I was blown away,' he admitted. Wayne Larkins, part of the first party to go to South Africa, stated, 'It was either that or the dole'.

Emburey, the only player to go on both rebel tours, added, 'We were paid peanuts by England. It was those rebel tours that led to central contracts. Everyone said, "The game is going to be ruined," but what a load of bullshit that is. It was all a lot of gas by people who thought it was wrong for us to go. They thought we were mercenary, but as a professional cricketer you are bloody mercenary. That is what we got paid to do'.

## **2
THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL**

'We decided to see if Ian can do the job. If he can't then obviously we'll have to think again'

– chairman of selectors Alec Bedser on the appointment of a new England captain

MIKE Brearley's announcement that he would not be available for future tours because he wished to concentrate on his training as a psychoanalyst left the England selectors with an important choice to make heading into the summer of 1980. Although Brearley said he would continue to lead the team throughout the forthcoming season if asked, a new captain was always the favoured option.

Geoff Boycott had been given a brief turn during Brearley's absence through injury in the winter of 1977-78 but, having seen Bob Willis take the role of vice-captain on Australian tours since then, he knew that his chance had gone. Yet Willis's disappointing winter, which produced three Test wickets at an average of almost seventy-five, meant he was by no means certain of his place in the team. The BBC's Christopher Martin-Jenkins had even suggested in his chronicle of the tour that Willis's Test career, which had begun during an Australian summer nine years earlier, had already gone on two games too long.

Of those outside the team, Essex's Keith Fletcher was the most vigorously proposed, more so than Brian Rose (Somerset), Roger Knight (Surrey) and David Lloyd (Lancashire). But Fletcher's struggles against extreme pace bowling hardly made him the ideal choice to face the West Indies. The prospect of another captain unable to merit a place via one of the basic disciplines of the game did not appeal to the selectors. All of which left Botham, a blunt and belligerent cricketer who made up in sheer talent what he might lack in the desired England captaincy traits of diplomacy and tactical expertise. On Sunday 18 May he was announced as the new skipper.

Born on the Wirral and schooled in Yeovil, Botham had progressed through a place on the MCC ground staff at Lord's to the Somerset first team, where he first came to national prominence as an eighteen-year-old in a Benson and Hedges Cup game. Having been felled by a typically malevolent short ball from Hampshire's West Indian fast bowler Andy Roberts, Botham picked himself up, spat out some blood and the odd tooth fragment and proceeded to clatter 45 to win the match by one wicket. His propensity for creating fantastic storylines had been quickly established.

He played his first one-day international at the tail end of 1976 and announced his arrival in Test cricket with a five-wicket haul in each of his first two games against Australia the following summer. By 1979, he'd raced past 1,000 runs and 100 wickets in Test matches in record time, achieving the feat with a style normally associated with the blacksmith in the local village team; big, bold hitting with the bat, tireless swing bowling at pace with the ball. All performed with an almost childish, carefree approach – both to cricket and life – that quickly endeared him to fans and team-mates.

'Having Both was like playing with twelve players in your side,' said John Emburey. 'With either bat or ball he could win you a game. We had no one else in the side like that. Goochie, Gower or Willis could win you a match, but not in the sense that Ian could because he could turn a game on his head. Once he was bowling well you couldn't get the ball out his hands and in that respect Mike Brearley handled him brilliantly. He let Ian do what he wanted to do, which was bowl and bat'.

His stock as a player had never been higher as England prepared for the visit of the West Indies. Following his century in the final Test against Australia he had single-handedly destroyed India when England visited Bombay for their hosts' Golden Jubilee Test at the Wankhede Stadium. Having taken 6 for 58 to help dismiss India for 242, he again rescued his team from crisis – 58 for 5 on this occasion – by scoring a circumspect first fifty and then sweeping and driving his way to a century in seventy further minutes, his sixth in Test matches. He then proceeded to rip through the home team again, his 7 for 48 representing his fourteenth five-wicket haul in the five-day game. His match figures of 13 for 106 were the best by an Englishman in India.

Twenty-five matches into his Test career, it appeared that there was nothing he could not achieve. Certainly, the selectors were prepared to take the chance that captaincy would be another challenge to be conquered. With bat and ball he seemed to possess the winning touch, so why should he not be able to inject that quality into team-mates as their captain?

In naming Botham, chairman of selectors Alec Bedser as good as admitted it was a gamble, although one not so far removed from that which he'd taken five years earlier with the appointment of Tony Greig. Yet it was still far more common for proven leadership experience to be counted above playing ability. Greig had been the only one in a recent captaincy lineage that included Ray Illingworth, Tony Lewis and Mike Denness to have undisputedly merited a place in the team purely as a player. But at least he had been captaining his county and possessed a charisma and charm that marked him out as a likely leader. Botham just had bucket-loads of runs and wickets.

But just as Greig had been the perfect England captain for the commercial awakening of the 1970s, with his wide-lapelled men's catalogue appearance, ever-present briefcase and understanding of his earning potential, so Botham was the kind of single-minded achiever of whom Margaret Thatcher, the grocer's daughter, would have whole-heartedly approved. If one of the guiding principles of the leader Britain would retain through the '80s was one of self-improvement and reward for personal success, then Botham was an ideal reflection of the time and really ought to have reigned alongside her for ten years.

As Botham was coming to power, the prime minister was doing battle on another sporting front, trying to talk UK athletes out of attending the Olympic Games in Moscow following the USSR's invasion of Afghanistan late in 1979. Elsewhere, opponents were lining up to berate her government's announcement of the axing of 75,000 civil service jobs, while the TUC had just staged a 'Day of Action' in which it called for members of a multitude of unions to stop work for a day – to a mixed degree of success.

In some ways Mrs Thatcher had it easy. She never had four West Indian quicks aiming for her head during Prime Minister's Question Time. And while her victory over the Argentinean junta in 1982 would transform her in public opinion into a cross between Churchill and Boudica, Botham's own Falklands moment – when he repelled the 1981 Australian invasion to ensure the Ashes belonged to the English – would come when he had already returned to the team's back benches.

Like Greig before him, Botham was upbeat about his team's chances in his first series as captain. He stopped short of threatening to make the West Indies 'grovel' but, referring to recent one-day successes, stated, 'We beat them in Australia. We can beat them again'.

Professionalised initially by county cricket and given a hard edge by the unrelenting nature of World Series Cricket, the West Indies under the leadership of Clive Lloyd were focused, united and relentless. To Lloyd's satisfaction the days of the so-called 'calypso cricketer' – the supremely gifted but psychologically fragile player that Greig had clumsily attempted to characterise in 1976 – were long in the past.

The West Indies' dominance in world cricket could be traced to Lloyd's decision to persist with a four-man pace attack in their 3-0 victory on their last tour of England. They had even employed a fitness coach, Australian Denis Waight, to help keep their army of fast bowlers ready for battle. Yet some felt that their professionalism had developed a more sinister side in New Zealand after the three-cornered Australian summer. Not only had Michael Holding kicked a stump out of the ground in rage after an umpire's decision went against him, Colin Croft had barged into umpire Fred Goodall in such a deliberate manner that even his ungainly wild-limbed action in delivery could not be blamed for it.

The fact that the record books would end up showing only a 1-0 scoreline against Botham's team was down largely to the weather that blighted the English summer and some late-season injuries that allowed the home batsmen a little respite.

Bob Woolmer and Alan Knott became the latest Packer players to achieve forgiveness when selected for the first Test at Trent Bridge. Even Knott, who believed that lingering anti-Packer sentiment would rule him out, conceded it was harsh on Bob Taylor, who had thought he was secure in the team after taking ten catches in Bombay. 'I couldn't understand the logic,' Taylor recalled.

The argument appeared to be the need for every additional run that Knott might produce against a West Indies attack that saw Malcolm Marshall find a place instead of the injured Croft. Shorter than his colleagues at 5ft 11in and possessed of a bustling run and quick-armed delivery that generated speed beyond the promise of his height, Marshall, who had joined Hampshire a year earlier, was to enjoy a long and one-sided relationship with England's batsmen over the course of the decade.

The home team's first-day total of 243 for 7 was decent enough after Botham had chosen to bat in testing conditions. Garner swung the ball, Roberts cut it off the pitch and it was the skipper himself who fought back with a free-swinging 57, hooking Joel Garner for six and smashing Roberts over the long-on boundary. Woolmer stuck around for 202 minutes for 46. After England were dismissed for 263, Viv Richards threatened to reprise his Trent Bridge double-century of four years earlier before falling to the hard-charging Willis, on whom he had been particularly punishing, for 64. It was the top score in the West Indies' total of 308.

England began the fourth day handily placed at 145 for 2, a lead of 100, after Graham Gooch's promise had been shorn off by a run-out and Boycott had benefitted from a dropped chance. The Yorkshireman and Woolmer made slow progress, Boycott eventually out for a five-hour 75 and Woolmer needing another 200 minutes for 29. Opinion was split on whether they were responsible for anchoring a respectable score or guilty of putting too much pressure on the middle order to press home the advantage. Either way, a total of 252 left the West Indies needing only 208 in four sessions. That target had become just 99 with eight wickets remaining at the start of the fifth day after Richards rapped a quick 48.

In front of near-empty stands, Mike Hendrick gave the first hint of a possible unlikely fightback by having Faoud Bacchus caught behind off his first ball of the fifth day. Then Willis, selected despite the misgivings of Martin-Jenkins, ripped through the middle order with four more wickets, taking his match tally to nine. Only Haynes stood firm. So crucial did the opener realise he was to his team's chances that he left the field in tears after being run out by a direct throw by Peter Willey with three runs needed. Two wickets still remained, however, and Roberts completed the victory with a blow over mid-on against Botham, having earlier survived a difficult chance. 'I would have backed myself to take that catch,' recalled David Gower, the fielder in question. 'I had to go back from cover with the ball high in the sky and coming over my shoulder. I got to it, which was the first thing, but then I dropped it. If I had caught Roberts at that stage we might have had a chance of winning'.

Knott also maintains that England would have won had Botham and Hendrick been fit enough to bowl to their full potential on the last day. Yet even in defeat the performance of England and its captain had been encouraging. A half-century and 3 for 50 in the first innings gave little hint that Botham's return was to be a diminishing one over the course of the summer. By the end of the series, he had failed to better either of those performances.

His lack of penetration with the ball – thirteen wickets in five matches – stemmed partly from the worsening condition of his back, not helped by having to take the strain of the bowling over the previous few months. Brearley admitted that Botham and Underwood had to bowl for too long on the previous winter's tour 'because they were so easily the most reliable of our bowlers'. While Underwood's Test career was obviously nearing its end, this would become an escalating problem for Botham.

Beyond the renaissance of Willis, which unexpectedly prolonged his Test career by several years, England would spend much of the decade looking for a fast-bowling spearhead to take the weight off Botham. Expected to bear the burden of both stock and shock bowler, Botham's body soon began to protest. Forced to wear a corset in the first Test of the summer, Botham was revealed by x-rays to have a slight deformity of the spine. It would eventually be addressed via surgery in 1988 but in the meantime the condition would never be far from flaring up. He was hardly helped by his whole-hearted consumption of all that life had to offer away from the ground and a constant battle with his weight, but that made his feats and longevity even more remarkable.

Lord's Test matches in the 1970s were far more synonymous with rain than the kind of heroics with which Botham had advanced his legend in 1978 – when he became the first man to score a century and take eight wickets in an innings in the same game. Seven matches in that decade had been weather-affected. Even in the long, hot summer of 1976, a Saturday wash-out had ensured a draw. It was hardly a surprise, then, when cricket's headquarters heralded in its new decade with another damp squib.

England dropped Gower to recall Mike Gatting for the first time since 1978, but it was Gooch who captured the attention, driving and hooking in his visorless helmet with a confidence that was almost un-English as he reached 50 off 78 balls. He swung a Richards full toss behind square for six and followed up with a blistering cover drive off Roberts that even Richards himself would have struggled to better. He smashed Richards for three more fours in an over to march into the nineties before proceeding carefully, the memory of his nerves-induced run-out in Australia weighing heavily. When he seized the opportunity to steal a single to reach his century it was hard to believe that it had taken thirty-six innings spread over five years, dating back to a pair on debut against Australia, for him to reach that landmark. He fell shortly before the tea interval, his 123 – scored from a total of 165 – having taken only 162 balls. It would remain as one of the finest England innings of the decade.

Chris Tavaré survived for five hours to score 42, but Holding and Garner went at England hard in the evening session and, aided by loose shots, dismissed them for 269. When Greenidge sent Willis's first three balls to the boundary, the pattern for the West Indies reply was set. The opener's dismissal for 25 brought Richards, at his most belligerent and irrepressible, to the crease. England bowled outside off stump and packed the off-side field. Still he found the gaps, hitting four fours in one Underwood over and racing into three figures in a fraction over two hours. Father Time almost fell off his perch in shock when he eventually clipped an innocuous catch to square leg after a stunning innings of 145.

Haynes went almost unnoticed until Richards's dismissal, but he was the dominant figure of the third day, when England were hindered by injury to Hendrick. When Haynes was out for 184 after more than eight hours, having hit twenty-seven fours and a six, he had achieved what was then the highest score by a West Indian at Lord's.

The loss of all but half an hour of the fourth day made England's survival much more likely, despite a first-innings deficit of 249. Boycott's stubborn 49, a further 47 by Gooch and thunderstorms on the final day completed that particular task.

The loss of ten and a half hours at Old Trafford helped England save a third Test in which they had announced a greater attacking intent by replacing Kent batsmen Tavaré and Woolmer with Brian Rose and Northamptonshire's Wayne Larkins. Lloyd also had attack on his mind when he put England in on an overcast morning and was rewarded by seeing his bowlers knock them over for 150 after a collapse from 126 for 3. Rose stood alone with a fine counter-attacking innings of 70.

An assault by Richards on the helpless Willis was the feature of the early part of the West Indies' reply; a popular century by adopted-Lancastrian Lloyd the focus of the second half. Graham Dilley, back in the team after the promise of his first two Tests in the winter, bowled with pride and no little pace while Emburey cleaned up the tail. Trailing by 110, England had Boycott's typically resolute 86 and half-centuries by Willey and Gatting to thank for a total that, allied to the lost time, denied the tourists the chance to push for victory.

It was Willey again – in unlikely partnership with Willis – and the loss of Saturday's play to rain that ensured a draw at The Oval. The route to that end result, however, had been a less predictable one this time. England scored 370 in the first innings, their best effort of the summer, built on a sparkling 83 by Gooch and support from Boycott and Rose. They then reduced the tourists to 105 for 5 – Dilley to the fore again – on their way to a lead of 105.

In a winning position for the first time in the series, England slumped to 92 for 9 in the face of a fierce assault by Holding and Croft. But on the final day, Willey and Willis refused to be budged, taking advantage of the absence of Roberts with a back problem and the subsequent debilitating injuries of Croft and Garner. In constructing an unlikely unbeaten partnership of 117 they became the first final pair in Tests to double their team's score.

An early conclusion to England's innings would have left the West Indies' explosive line-up more than three hours to score around 200 to win. Yet Willis thrust his ungainly front leg down the track on the way to an unbeaten 24, while Willey, a man with the survival instincts of a cockroach, battled through to his first Test hundred, finding opportunities within his defiant defence to punch sixteen boundaries. It remains the only time a batsman has scored a Test century after his team lost their ninth wicket before reaching 100. 'It was very satisfying,' Willey dead-panned, 'one of the easiest hundreds I have ever made. Perhaps they'll keep me in for another Test match'.

The fifth and final Test was condemned to a draw by the loss of the first and fourth days to Headingley rain, plus delays on Friday and Saturday. Local boy David Bairstow top-scored in England's 143 with a battling 40 after being awarded a Test debut in place of Knott, who had been angry to be asked in the middle of the fourth Test about his availability for the winter tour. Having been refused additional time to make his decision, he ruled himself out of the trip and thereby sacrificed his place. Meanwhile, Garner reached twenty-six wickets for the series at an outstanding average of 14.26.

The West Indies' total of 245 was built on an opening stand of 83. Dilley took four wickets, but for the most part England's attack failed to capitalise on the helpful conditions. England's weather-interrupted second innings was a suitably unsatisfactory way to bring down the curtain on a frustrating series.

The original Centenary Test, staged in Melbourne in early 1977, had been a triumph. Never mind the Packer plotting that had been going on behind the scenes, the occasion was a celebration worthy of the sport's rich history and the match itself was thrilling and tense enough to do justice to the event – famously finishing in a 45-run win for Australia, as had the match whose anniversary it was marking.

It was typical of English cricket in the 1980s that the game to mark 100 years of Test cricket on its own shores should be remembered for rain and rancour more than events in the middle. 'It was a bit of a letdown,' said Dennis Lillee. 'It wasn't the spectacle it should have been.' The festivities, in which 200 Test players participated, were superbly organised but for those without entrance to that inner circle, which meant most of the nation, it was the sport that mattered. It was shambolic, unsatisfactory and, at one point, decidedly ugly.

Bill Athey, a twenty-three-year-old Yorkshire batsman, remembers the peripheral elements of the game much more than the on-field details of his Test debut. 'I can't recall how I heard of being selected but in those days you did get the luxury of an invite on a postcard, saying you had been selected against so-and-so on such-and-such a date. "Please RSVP." It was bloody hilarious.

'You had no camps or preparation weeks, no development squads, so when you got picked you drove there on Wednesday after finishing a Championship game on Tuesday night and had one net. As a youngster you had never even met these blokes apart from playing against them once or twice and certainly never spoken to them. It was an intimidating atmosphere for players to come into. I suspect I just kept quiet or stuck to the people I knew a little bit better. It was bloody hard work. I just remember everything that went on around the match itself. We signed hundreds and hundreds of bats and photographs – that is what I remember more than anything'.

Losing ten hours over the first three days to rain and, controversially, bad light was bad enough, but when England failed to attempt the challenge of scoring 370 in almost six hours to win the game, it seemed as though the sense of occasion had completely by-passed those most closely involved in it.

Australia won the toss and embarked on an innings that, thanks to the weather, lasted until Saturday evening, when they declared at 385 for 5. Graeme Wood, doggedly, and Kim Hughes, most fluently, each scored centuries. Hughes unleashed some wonderful, classical shots, none better than the cover drive off one knee against Hendrick that took him to his fifty.

It was on the Saturday that MCC members – disgruntled at the apparent reluctance of anyone involved to get on with the game – got into what _Wisden_ described as a 'momentary scuffle' with umpire David Constant. The problem had been two uncovered pitches on the Tavern side of the ground. As they dried in the sunshine and wind, the Lord's groundskeepers felt play could have started after lunch. Greg Chappell, keen to press home his team's good start, concurred. Botham was more reticent. Constant and Dickie Bird, the ultimate arbiters, kept the players in the pavilion, to the bewilderment of a 20,000 crowd.

As the umpires and captains ventured out for their fifth inspection of the day, Botham was hit on the back of the head. After looking at the conditions once more Bird suggested that they 'give it a go in fifteen minutes' and remained in the middle to discuss the laying of sawdust with the grounds crew. Constant returned to find angry MCC members waiting at the foot of the steps in front of the pavilion, targeting him for angry questions and outright abuse. As he attempted to fight his way through the crowd blocking his path, his tie was grabbed and he almost ended up on the floor, prompting Botham and Chappell to intervene. Mike Gatting, who would end up as MCC president thirty-three years later, recalled, 'It was just diabolical, I thought, for members of perhaps the greatest cricket club of all time to behave like a set of rowdies'.

When Bird eventually joined Constant in the sanctuary of the dressing room, both men were reduced to tears. Bird was particularly galled that his pre-match request for additional covers on the problematical old wickets had been ignored. Police officers were required to escort the umpires through the pavilion when the game eventually resumed at 3.45pm. MCC subsequently issued a statement relating to 'certain members' and stating that 'their conduct was inexcusable'. It concluded, 'The club is sending to the umpires and to the captains of both sides their profound apologies that such an unhappy incident should have occurred at the headquarters of the game and on an occasion of such importance'.

Australia's bowlers made up for lost time on Monday, with Lillee and Len Pascoe firing England out for 205. Pascoe wrapped things up with a burst of 5 for 15. England's bowlers contained no such threat – although Chris Old did take three wickets in each innings – and Australia's quick runs on the fourth evening and during the first hour of an extended final day enabled them to set England a victory target that, in the modern era, would be regarded as generous. Even in 1980, and given the nature of the match, it was a surprise that England did not make even a token effort to chase the runs.

After the early loss of Gooch, perhaps they felt they had no one who could bat in the manner of Hughes, who had deposited Old into the top tier of the pavilion as he added an unbeaten 84 to his first-innings hundred. Entering after Athey was out cheaply for the second time on his Test debut, even Gower batted with caution, while Boycott anchored himself at the other end. As boos arose from the crowd, the one batsman who might have been able to launch an assault, Botham, remained in the pavilion. Boycott, on his way to a nineteenth Test century, and Gatting took England unhurriedly to 244 for 3 as the game meandered to its conclusion.

## **3
CAN YOU HANDLE IT?**

'There were hitches, each one of which could have blown the tour apart. They came rolling along, one almost overtaking the other, building up like a giant snowball tumbling out of control'

– Ian Botham

ROLAND Butcher looked at the letter in his hand. Like every Caribbean boy who grew up with a cricket bat in his hands, he had dreamt of taking the field in a West Indies versus England Test match. Now, at the age of twenty-six and in the middle of a breakthrough season, he was being asked if he'd be available to do so.

Yet the logo on this piece of paper was that of the Test and County Cricket Board, administrators of the game in the country in which he had arrived in 1967 to join parents who had settled several years earlier in the Hertfordshire town of Stevenage. With the English county season of 1980 drawing towards its conclusion, two big centuries within three days of each other for Middlesex had prompted the TCCB to check whether he would accept an invitation – if one was offered – to return home as part of the England touring team.

Brought up by his grandmother in East Point, in rural Barbados, while his parents strove to establish a new life in England, it had been a love of sport that had helped Butcher counter the feeling of displacement and loneliness he had encountered after finally settling with a mother and father he barely remembered. 'I was still struggling to adjust to my changed environment and the only thing that I could still identify from the West Indies was cricket,' he would explain. 'For me, cricket reminded me of my childhood in Barbados'.

Having progressed from Stevenage CC to Middlesex, via youth cricket for Gloucestershire and a place on the MCC ground staff, the first four years of his professional career had been a struggle. His 1980 season began with demotion to his county's second eleven, but he returned to slam 153 not out and 179 in consecutive Championship innings in July. Suddenly there was speculation around a Test call-up – for the touring West Indies team in place of Lawrence Rowe.

Perhaps it was fear of seeing Butcher slip through their fingers that prompted the TCCB's enquiry. They need not have worried. 'By that stage, the die was cast,' he recalled. 'I was playing for Middlesex as an English player and they had their full quota of overseas players. Had I been asked to replace Lawrence Rowe it would have been an interesting situation, but I think I would have told them I was grateful for the invitation and said "no thank you" because it would have made me an overseas player and ended my county career'.

Subsequently given his international debut in England's second Prudential Trophy one-day win against Australia at the tail end of the season, he hit 52 off thirty-eight balls. Then he cracked an unbeaten 50, including three sixes and five fours, to guide Middlesex home in the Gillette Cup Final against Surrey. The momentum for his selection for England's winter tour had become unstoppable – particularly, it appeared, given the team's destination. 'Being in the West Indies, the assumption was that the selection was based on that but I felt that even if they had been going to New Zealand I should have been in the frame. I can see how people would make the connection, as I was brought up in the West Indies'.

In addition to the theory that Butcher would know the local conditions and the potential positive PR his selection might create, it had done him no harm that Botham, a former colleague on the MCC ground staff, had been the Man of the Match adjudicator in the Gillette Cup Final, while chairman of selectors Alec Bedser explained, 'We thought that if a bloke was going to win a match it would be Butcher'.

He might have been selected for the Centenary Test against Australia in August, but ended up somewhat relieved that he wasn't. 'The form I was in during 1980, I was batting well and fielding well,' he said. 'Alan Butcher played in the first one-day international and I played in the second and did pretty well. I was disappointed not to play in the Centenary Test but in a way I was quite grateful because I had seen what had happened to other people. I'd seen the same Alan Butcher have an opportunity to play the final Test a year earlier but not gone on tour'.

The selection of the first black man to play Test cricket for England was headline news at both ends of the national newspapers – distracting them from Prince Charles's new girlfriend, Lady Diana Spencer – although it required his county to track him down on holiday in Canada to give him the news that he'd been picked. But having travelled to the West Indies as a headline act, Butcher would soon be reduced to a mere footnote, the impact of his historic debut diluted by the traumatic events of the tour.

England had seen enough of their opponents to understand the task ahead of them in the Caribbean. But no one could have foreseen the chaotic organisation, political confrontation and tragedy that would mar the tour and, for several days, threaten its completion.

Having declared that he had 'enjoyed the experience of being captain and learned from it', Botham had duly been named to lead England's party, despite his lingering back problems. 'My first priority is my fitness,' he declared at the end of the summer of 1980. 'I'll be training with Scunthorpe although it's doubtful I'll be playing for them.'

Meanwhile, other players set about filling the four months between selection and departure with their own training routines, with not a team boot camp, net practice or bonding session in sight. 'You prepared yourself,' said Butcher. 'My preparation was me and Paul Downton working together with Alan Sefton, one of the development officers at Arsenal, who trained us physically to get ready for the tour. There was some contact from the TCCB, but for practice you had to do it yourself'.

The last time they had visited the West Indies, seven years earlier, England had lost the first Test in Trinidad before a series of backs-to-the-wall performances by the likes of Dennis Amiss and Keith Fletcher kept an outclassed touring team alive until the climax of the series, back at the scene of the one previous result. There, Geoff Boycott's 99 and 113 and Tony Greig's unlikely thirteen-wicket haul with experimental off-breaks saw Mike Denness's side snatch victory for a 1-1 draw.

Yet the make-up of England's party this time reflected the nature of a captain who would not be content to hang on grimly and hope for an opening. Botham's personality was stamped all over his first touring party. Conservative accumulators such as Chris Tavaré, Bill Athey and Bob Woolmer were ignored in place of middle-order men who could take the attack to the West Indies; David Gower, Mike Gatting and, most eye-catchingly, Butcher. It was not an approach with which the old campaigner Boycott was in accord. 'It's a fine battle cry, an heroic attitude if you like,' he said, 'but then so was the Charge of the Light Brigade'.

Graham Gooch, Brian Rose and Peter Willey, who also offered an additional spinning option, completed the batting line-up, while Downton and David Bairstow competed for the gloves. 'I'd joined Middlesex because they had a great bowling attack,' Downton explained. 'I got in opening the batting and scored quite a lot of runs, although in those days you got selected first as a wicketkeeper. It wasn't the requirement that you had to be able to bat in the top six. I got the nod to tour with Bairstow and because he wasn't established I always felt I had a chance. I always felt I was the better wicketkeeper'.

Derek Underwood had opted out, but doubts over the fitness of another left-armer, Phil Edmonds, saw two off-spinners named in John Emburey and Geoff Miller. Botham's fellow seam bowlers were Bob Willis, Graham Dilley, Chris Old and Graham Stevenson.

The team's hopes of acclimatising properly for the Test series once they arrived in the Caribbean were undermined by problems in securing the appropriate practice facilities. The fact that such a serious matter would end up being all but forgotten by the time England returned home is further testament to the other ill fates that would befall a tour that appeared blighted from the moment the team's flight went wheels up from London.

In the modern era of meticulous planning, it is easy to forget the haphazard nature of nets and practices on previous England tours. Without advanced parties of logistics experts ensuring smooth organisation and offering the players the chance for single-minded preparation, promised facilities frequently failed to live up to expectations and sometimes failed to materialise at all.

In Antigua, where the tour was supposed to get off to a relaxing start but made a soggy one instead, the practice-starved Boycott got tour manager Alan Smith and assistant manager Ken Barrington to bowl at him on a slab of concrete in front of a propped-up tyre while pigs, goats and cows roamed the same field. As bad a practice set-up as that was, several other players joined them the next day. 'I have fond memories of working with Geoffrey on my batting,' said Downton. 'He will always take credit for any runs I scored'.

The problems continued in Trinidad, where the squad encountered insufficient hotel rooms, inadequate food portions, no practice nets at the Queen's Park Oval and no local bowlers. Boycott sympathised with Smith and Barrington, recalling them going 'blue in the face trying to impress on the locals just what we needed', but also suggested they could have been more blunt and more demanding.

Preparation of the first Test wicket proved to be an issue as well. The initial explanation given to the teams of the damp patches that appeared on the morning of the game was that rain had got under the covers. It was subsequently admitted, under pressure from dogged journalists, that sabotage had taken place, with covers slashed and holes dug in the pitch – probably by those angry that local hero Deryck Murray had been replaced behind the stumps by namesake David.

The decision to keep the reason for a delayed start from a crowd already angry about team selection made for an unpleasant, ugly atmosphere when the captains eventually went out to toss. Picking their way between bottles and cans and past banners showing support for the deposed vice-captain, Clive Lloyd and Botham looked at the damaged wicket and returned with the West Indies having been asked to bat.

Earth and water had been used for repairs and some of the affected areas appeared dangerously close to a fast bowler's good length. Yet nothing could derail Gordon Greenidge and Desmond Haynes, who reached the close of the first day with an unbroken partnership of 144. Both subsequently fell within sight of a century as Emburey's steady accuracy brought him five wickets. But Lloyd scored an important 64 before Andy Roberts launched into England's bowling, his unbeaten 50 including smashing 24 off the first five balls of a Botham over.

Before the attempted mutilation, the wicket had been expected to be benign and lifeless. So confident was Botham that its condition remained unchanged that he made a prediction before the third day that would come back to bite him. 'On that wicket we would struggle to get a result in ten days,' he announced. 'If we lose now, a few heads will roll'.

Guessing how any wicket would behave before seeing Roberts, Michael Holding, Joel Garner and Colin Croft unleashed upon it was foolhardy in the extreme. Inevitably, they discovered bounce where England had found none and Croft, with his awkward angles from wide on the crease, created insurmountable problems. Finishing with five wickets, he helped shoot England out for 178, with only Gower (48) showing any degree of comfort.

Ironically, Downton's debut innings for England was ended by the gentle off-break bowling of Larry Gomes. 'You had this fear of failure,' he explained. 'We had helmets and arm guards so it wasn't fear of being hurt, it was a fear of that reflex that you can't control and that ends up with you getting caught fending off the ball. I remember going out padded up to the eyeballs and with those Perspex visors, facing Holding first ball. He was sixty yards away, you were squinting into the sun, sweating and becoming aware of your breathing under the helmet becoming faster as he started his run. I batted for forty minutes and then Gomes comes on and there is that mental release. He bowled a straight ball, I played for turn and he took out the off stump'.

Following on, England got within an hour or so of saving the game only by virtue of frequent rain interruptions. Ever the man for a rearguard action, Boycott defied the bowlers for more than five hours for 70, prompting Downton to comment, 'He looked like he could bat forever.' But Botham needlessly holed out when trying to hit his old pal Richards out of the ground just before the arrival of the second new ball. One reporter called Botham's recklessness an 'insult' to Boycott's manful efforts. Downton believes that the nature of Botham's relationship with Richards was to blame, suggesting, 'He and Viv were great mates but he sort of knew where the power lay. Beefy looked up to Viv in a way; he was such a powerful figure'.

Some of the fiercest criticism came from Henry Blofeld, who angered Botham by telling _Sunday Express_ readers that he had been guilty of 'the most irresponsible stroke ever to come from the bat of an England captain'. Blofeld continued, 'It showed, too, how unfitted Botham's whole mental approach is to the job of captaincy. It is no more than the truth when I say that he captains the side like a great big baby. His attitude is astonishingly naïve and he is letting his country down'.

The skipper would admit that he 'regretted getting out that way' but was hardly contrite when saying, 'The crime was not having a go as I did. My crime was failing to connect properly'.

Blofeld also pointed out the naïvety of Botham's 'heads will roll' comment. But by the time Test cricket resumed in the Caribbean, the skipper's injudicious remark had been all but buried by the unexpected events of the next few days.

When Willis was sent home from Trinidad with a knee injury, England's selectors called up Surrey's Robin Jackman, a journeyman seamer whose 112 first-class wickets in the previous season had thrust him into Test contention in the sixteenth year of his professional career. Little did anyone expect that his belated selection would cause an international incident.

Initially, what seemed likely to cause more of a stir was the confirmation of Miller, skipper of Derbyshire, as vice-captain in Willis's absence. The appointment stunned Boycott, who felt that the search for elusive 'leadership' qualities had again led the selectors to overlook 'experience and technical know-how'. He was already dubious about Botham in the role of captain and now, having played Test cricket twelve years before Miller, captained his country and made two previous Caribbean tours, Boycott recorded, 'I felt I had been snubbed again by the establishment.' Bedser's explanation was that Miller could be a future captaincy candidate, but Boycott lamented, 'The establishment seem to want my ability but not me and I find that depressing and dispiriting'.

Botham, meanwhile, was no less impressed. He had weighed up the merits of Willey and Gooch and proposed that the vice-captaincy should go to the latter, only to be overruled by Lord's – 'a decision made from 4,000 miles away that proved, not that I needed it, what an antiquated and outdated organisation I was dealing with,' he noted. Even Miller agreed with Botham that it would be hard for him to be an effective deputy given that he might not play all of the Tests.

Meanwhile, it was no secret that Willis's bowling replacement, Jackman, who had a South African wife, had spent many English winters playing and coaching cricket in that country. So had others in the party, even since the signing of the 1977 Gleneagles Agreement, in which the Commonwealth countries pledged to oppose apartheid by discouraging sporting contact with and competition in the Republic. Bairstow, for example, had recently captained a South African provincial team, Griqualand West, yet his inclusion on tour had never been questioned.

Jackman, who believed his winter excursions had turned him into a bowler good enough to win international selection, entered Guyana without any hint of trouble. Yet two days later, tour manager Smith was attending a reception hosted by the local police commissioner when he was warned by Joe Solomon, president of the Guyana Cricket Association, 'We have something of a problem. A number of people are becoming anxious about the circumstances of Jackman's last visit to South Africa. The government may take a serious view over it'.

Smith alerted the British High Commissioner to Guyana, Philip Mallett, and asked Jackman about his latest trip to South Africa. Jackman reported that he'd played Currie Cup cricket for Zimbabwe and coached white and black youngsters.

The next morning Smith was told that the situation was becoming more serious, in response to which he warned of the serious consequences of England being unable to pick their desired team. In the evening, the government announced its investigation into Jackman's South African activity and the story entered the public domain.

While sports minister Hector Monro argued that Gleneagles did not apply to the Jackman case – because it did not cover countries taking actions against an individual – Smith asked Mallett for additional security for his team, fearing that the locals could turn against them if they believed they might force the cancellation of the Test. He also began looking into short-notice travel plans for the nineteen-strong tour party and the thirty-plus British journalists.

The next day, England's players boarded helicopters to travel to their one-day international in Berbice. 'We were not in the right frame of mind to tackle an international match,' said Bairstow after they were bowled out for 137 and beaten by six wickets. Arriving back in Georgetown, the players found their hotel packed with cameramen and reporters. 'The atmosphere was very unpleasant, local hostility was being stirred up and we were effectively prisoners at our hotel,' Botham would write.

The team was ordered to assemble in the captain's room. During the afternoon, Smith had been informed that Jackman was to be served with an order to leave the country. He now read the team a long-winded statement by Guyana foreign minister Comrade Rashleigh Jackson, which went into Jackman's history and the Gleneagles Agreement and concluded, 'The Guyana Government has been constrained to use today an order revoking the two-week visitor permit which was given to Robin Jackman on arrival'.

Smith also read out the Cricket Council's response from Lord's, stating, 'It is no longer possible for the Test team to be chosen without restriction. It is therefore with deep regret that England cannot take part in the second Test.' What had particularly irked the Council was that these potential issues had been discussed with the WICB before the tour and assurances given that the individual career choices of England cricketers would have no impact.

For clarity, Smith added, 'We have got to leave here as quickly as possible'.

Jackman was taken to his room where two men, one in uniform, handed him a piece of paper and asked for his passport so they could revoke the visa. Pictures of a shell-shocked Jackman following the uniformed immigration officer duly appeared around the world.

Smith insisted that Jackman would not be made to leave on his own. 'I was prepared to create a scene if they had attempted to do so,' said the manager. His attempt to find transport for the whole squad even included an enquiry about possible British naval craft in the vicinity. Eventually he reluctantly accepted twenty-three seats on a British West Indies Airways flight the following day, only for the DC9 aircraft to be replaced by a Boeing 707 only forty-five minutes before take-off, creating additional room for the journalists.

Having arrived in Barbados a week ahead of schedule, Smith took steps to ensure that the precarious future of the tour would not be affected by any slips of English tongues. 'I was very conscious that one indiscreet word might wreck everything we were attempting to do to serve cricket in the broadest sense,' he said. 'Nobody was allowed to be interviewed, even in my presence'.

Jackman, in particular, had no desire to force himself further into the spotlight by speaking to reporters. In fact, it was only when he saw the clamour of media in Bridgetown that he fully appreciated how glaring that attention was becoming. 'I knew very little of what was happening at the time,' he said, 'so skilfully did [Smith] shield me.' Jackman was saving his words for wife Yvonne, who feared that her nationality had played a role in the affair. 'I had to assure her that she was nothing to do with the issue and had never been involved,' he explained. 'Just in the same way the manager and the rest of the England team constantly reassured me that I was not to blame myself in any way'.

Tourists from England were, of course, no strangers to acrimony and unrest on tours to this part of the world. Len Hutton's team of 1953-54 had been considered ill-behaved to the point where opponent and future West Indies manager Clyde Walcott reckoned their dissent to umpires would have earned them suspensions in the modern day. There was controversy when left-arm spinner Tony Lock was no-balled for throwing and, of course, an inevitable bottle-throwing riot, in Guyana. On Colin Cowdrey's tour early in 1968, Kingston, Jamaica, had been the location for that particular activity, with police using tear gas to control a crowd angered by the dismissal of Basil Butcher (a distant cousin of Roland).

The most recent tour, under Mike Denness in 1974, had featured the infamous close-of-play run-out of Alvin Kallicharran by Tony Greig – when only a withdrawn appeal had prevented further crowd chaos – and a general atmosphere of unpleasantness. Much of it, according to Bob Willis, had carried racial undertones, unusually so when most of the West Indian players were now county colleagues of their English opponents.

This, though, was something new, with the very continuance of the tour at stake. The general consensus was that if the Barbados government banned Jackman the tour would be over, resulting in the loss of an estimated £200,000 by the TCCB – not to mention the disruption and financial losses suffered by travelling English supporters.

There were also fears that world cricket would be split along colour lines. Jack Bannister would go as far as to suggest in _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ that the tour could prove to be the last of its type and urged the politicians to stay out of his sport. '[They] have long since realised that in sport they have an all-powerful weapon with which to pursue their ends,' he wrote. 'The inevitable defence is that their beliefs are sincerely held... sincerity itself is not sufficient reason for disrupting the recreational loves of players and spectators.' Putting aside that the politicians felt they were protecting those with more than the loss of their 'recreational loves' to worry about, the whole politics versus sport argument would continue to be a feature of cricket conversation throughout the decade.

England had left Guyana optimistic that the tour would continue and British diplomats in the region received instructions from the Foreign Office to do everything they could to ensure a satisfactory resolution. But while police in London were clashing with an estimated crowd of 10,000 protesting at an alleged cover-up of the investigation into the death of black youths at a party in New Cross, the politicians of the Caribbean were in no hurry to decide the fate of Jackman and his team-mates. The Barbados government remained cloistered in meetings with counterparts from Jamaica, Antigua and Montserrat – the other remaining tour destinations – and deadlines for a decision came and went.

The players, meanwhile, attempted to prepare for the scheduled pre-Test game against Barbados and anticipated the previously-arranged arrival of their families. Smith commented, 'Human nature being what it is, it has had an effect on them. But our morale is still high'.

At last, almost a week after the furore had begun, Smith was informed that a decision had been reached and plans were made for a hurried 1am announcement to the media. The governments of the four affected territories 'jointly concluded that the remainder of England's cricket tour should be permitted to continue as scheduled'. They agreed with the interpretation of Gleneagles not being applicable to Jackman.

Explaining the delay in the decision, Barbados foreign affairs minister Henry Forde said, 'In the interests of the Caribbean communities we wanted maximum consensus. We were deeply conscious of the need to keep cricket a Commonwealth sport'.

Jackman, like his team-mates, slept through it all, being woken with the news by a phone call from his wife. Insisting that he'd lost no sleep over the ordeal, he admitted being 'relieved and delighted'.

Having returned to the field in a drawn four-day game against Barbados, England showed four changes to the team that lost the first Test. Rose had followed Willis home because of eye problems, while Miller, Downton and Old were left on the sidelines. Three off-spinners had been one too many in Trinidad, so Emburey's superior bowling and Willey's greater batting made the more modest talents of the popular Miller expendable – which, Boycott might have noted, made his appointment as vice-captain all the more puzzling.

Included alongside Gatting, his Middlesex colleague, was Butcher, who would now make his Test debut on his home island, having been particularly frustrated by events in Guyana. 'It would have been better if I had made my debut there,' he argued. 'The Bourda ground was a lovely batting track and it might have been good for my confidence. And it was the second time this had happened to me. I had gone to Guyana a few years earlier to make my first-class debut for Barbados. We trained before the game and got back to the hotel to be told Geoff Greenidge, who had played in South Africa, would have to leave. We all left, so I didn't make my debut for Barbados or England in Guyana as I should have done'.

The people of Barbados, however, were thrilled to see one of their own starring on a home stage. 'Wherever I went I was greeted as a king,' he explained. 'People looked at my selection as an achievement and there was one headline that said, "Our boy, their bat." My Test debut was a grand occasion and I had lots of family and friends there. They probably all had a better time than I did'.

It was Jackman, thrown into his debut Test after a four-wicket return against Barbados, who made an immediate impact by taking two of four quick wickets. They also included Dilley's dismissal of Richards for a duck. That the West Indies reached 256 was due to a stand of 154 between centurion Lloyd and Gomes.

England's reply is remembered for one of the finest – and fastest – overs in Test cricket history. Bowling to Boycott, Holding began with a ball that popped off a good length, caught the batsman's glove and fell just short of the slip cordon. The second ball rose past the batsman's defensive prod and smacked into Murray's gloves as the wicketkeeper rose off the ground to cushion the impact. The third nipped back and struck the inside of Boycott's thigh and the fourth and fifth were played down in front of gully. 'The first five balls were almost unplayable,' was Gooch's description from the non-striker's end. 'The sixth beat him completely'.

That final delivery sent the off stump cartwheeling away in a frenzy that seemed to be reflected by the cavorting, celebrating crowds in the stands. 'It was a bit rapid to say the least,' said Boycott. 'In fact it went like a rifle bullet.' Writing in the Barbados newspaper, _The Nation_ , Gladstone Holder said that Holding's over was 'a battle unlikely ever to be forgotten by either of the contestants or by any of the spectators who understood it'.

England succumbed for 122, with the loss of Greenidge before stumps on day two hardly weakening the home team's position.

Already faced with an uphill task, the news that hit the England team during that night put the job of saving a cricket match sharply into perspective. In the early hours, Ken Barrington's wife, Anne, had rushed into the adjoining room of Bernard Thomas frantic after her husband had collapsed. 'It was no more than thirty seconds before I reached him,' said Thomas, 'but it was already apparent that he had suffered a massive heart attack and died instantly. Although, with the help of my wife, Joan, I battled for fifteen minutes with heart massage and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, our efforts were in vain'.

Only fifty years old, Barrington had been a selector since 1975 and a regular presence on tour since managing the 1976-77 tour of India, earning the nickname of 'The Colonel'. Botham remains convinced that the stresses of this particular tour played their part in his tragic end.

While Thomas made arrangements to remove Barrington's body from the hotel without news of his death leaking out before the rest of his family had been informed, it fell to Botham and Smith to inform the players. They knocked on each door in turn to impart the devastating information before moving on solemnly to the next one. 'It must have been the most soul-destroying walk either of them had taken,' recalled Gooch, who took the news harder than anyone, his respect for Barrington's record of 6,806 Test runs multiplied many times by the coaching and mentoring he had received over the course of successive tours.

It was Barrington who sold Gooch on the high back-lift that would become such a distinctive part of his game; a way of countering a habit to fall over towards the off side. 'He was always ready to listen to the problems of anybody,' Gooch recalled. 'His room door was never closed.' Barrington drilled into Gooch that famous appetite for converting centuries into something even greater – 'Daddy hundreds' as Gooch calls them. 'He spent some time building up my confidence, instilling in me the need to bat for a long time, to never miss a chance to cash in when the ball was running my way'.

The third day began with the teams joined by a capacity 15,000 crowd in paying tribute to Barrington and continued with the kind of attritional cricket of which this most stubbornly effective of batsmen, scorer of twenty Test centuries, would have approved. Suffering from an injured finger, Gooch was left brooding in the dressing room while team-mates at least had the restriction of West Indian runs to occupy them, a task for which they roused themselves sufficiently to keep the home batsmen to around three runs per over. Richards went patiently to a century before cutting loose on the fourth day to finish unbeaten on 182, allowing Lloyd to declare with a lead of 522.

'I'd started on a high, but then the whole complexion changed,' Butcher remembered. 'The game had little relevance to us. Ken's loss was a crushing blow. To face those West Indian bowlers at the time you needed a clear mind, but now you realised cricket wasn't as important as you thought'.

Holding again quickly accounted for Boycott and then, first ball, removed Gatting, who had faced only three balls in total on his return to the side. Gooch and Gower then added 120 in a fluent partnership that would help their team pass 200 for the first time in the series. Gooch, 88 not out going into the final day, reached his second Test century after 260 minutes at the crease before the home team wrapped up a 298-run victory. 'I think Ken would have been proud of me that day. I hope so,' Gooch said, although referring to his hundred as 'a bare statistic in the record book; one always associated with pain and tragedy'.

There was little more misfortune that could befall this touring party and the final weeks produced improved cricket, particularly among the batsmen. England achieved their four highest totals of the series and, although the West Indies retained the upper hand in both remaining Tests by passing 400 comfortably in their only innings in each, the tourists achieved two creditable draws.

Bill Athey was an exception. Called up to replace Rose, he played in the final two Tests and finished the tour with a Test record of six single-figure scores in six innings after his previous failures in the Lord's Centenary Test. He wouldn't return to the England team for another five years. 'The worst thing that happened to me was getting called up for that tour with so little previous Test experience,' he argued. 'I had to make my own way there from Australia, which was a bit unfair, and got out there when the lads had just been thrown out of Guyana and just before Kenny died. It was a traumatic time. Suddenly you are thrown in at three against the best pace attack the world has ever seen on their home turf. They were just too good for us. It was almost like playing against a rugby side whose backs were all as big and fast as Jonah Lomu. There was no respite from aggressive, fast, almost brutal, bowling.'

Experience and doggedness produced unbeaten centuries by Willey, in the first innings, and Boycott, in the second, as England comfortably batted out for a draw in the third Test in Antigua. Willey had batted well with the tail to repair England's first knock and had been on only 69 when joined by last man Dilley. Boycott ensured the game was safe before allowing himself the acceleration he needed to reach his twentieth Test century. For the West Indies, Richards thrilled the home support by marking the first Test to be played on his home island with an inevitable hundred.

In Jamaica, Gooch, who had shared an opening partnership of 144 with Boycott in the previous game before falling seventeen short of his second ton of the series, made sure of that particular milestone this time. He was especially punishing on Croft, the leading wicket-taker in the series, on his way to scoring 153 of England's total of 285. After Lloyd and Gomes had both got into the nineties to ensure another big West Indies lead, it again needed someone to show the discipline to bat for a long time in order to save the game. As much to his own surprise as anyone's, it was Gower who came through. Having begun the tour with 187 against the Young West Indies, he'd felt in good form throughout the series without making a big score. Aware that he had not done himself justice he went out to bat 'determined not to return to the dressing room without at least a century against my name... to convince myself, if nobody else, that I had really come to terms with Test cricket at its highest level'.

After England slipped to 32 for 3 and were left facing defeat inside four days, Gower and Willey counter-attacked their way to a partnership of 136. Then Willey fell for 67 and Butcher and Botham followed in quick order. Downton, who had regained his place from Bairstow in the previous Test, helped Gower survive the new ball and stuck around for three and a half hours. Unusually for Gower, he made a point of speaking to himself and to his batting partners throughout his seven-hour innings as a way of maintaining concentration and was rewarded with a magnificent 154 not out, which had included a top-edged six off Holding early on.

'The 1979-80 tour had been a bit of a rude awakening to the fact that things can go wrong,' Gower recalled. 'Then, having been dropped against the West Indies at home, I had time to reflect and ponder and get myself together. To come back into the team against them and score 150 was quite special – even 20 was good against them in that era. Your development as a player never stops and you gauge yourself against the best. If you get 150 against the strongest side you have ever played against, then it is a vital part of your confidence-building and a vital part of your education'.

The post-tour verdicts accepted that England had performed about as well as could have been expected, in particular the batsmen, who had faced overwhelming odds. Referring to 'five centuries which must rank with the finest in the long history of Test cricket', _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ said of those who made them, 'These men are true heroes of sport, and deserve to be welcomed back as such.'

Having observed them close-up, Boycott offered his verdict on Gooch and Gower. Gooch, he felt, had succeeded against the odds, being 'a product of a system which seems perversely intent on not producing Test match players' and which encouraged batsmen to 'hit everything in sight' in the name of one-day cricket. Gower, he believed, had attempted to 'add a new dimension to his game by applying himself.' Boycott had been suitably impressed when the Leicestershire man had sought out a concrete strip for a voluntary practice in Jamaica. In contrast, Botham, he noted, spent less time in the nets than previously and had no one to make him 'toe the line'.

### **The Guns of Brixton**

Having arrived in England in time to witness the difficulties faced by Britain's immigrant population throughout the economically depressed days of the 1970s, Roland Butcher could not avoid awareness of the social significance of his selection as England's first black cricketer.

Two years after Nottingham Forest full-back Viv Anderson became the first black man to play a full football international for England, racial tension in the country was sufficiently high that England's final Test of the Caribbean tour coincided with rioting in Brixton over the weekend of 10 and 11 April, London's worst outbreak of civil unrest for two decades. By the time the fires on the streets of the south London borough burned out, more than 350, most of them policemen, were reported injured, more than 100 vehicles had been torched, 150 buildings damaged, numerous shops looted and upwards of 100 arrests made.

As many as 5,000 were said to have been involved in a riot that had its immediate roots in what was condemned as an inadequate police investigation into a racially motivated arson attack in New Cross in January, in which several black youths had died. Also noted was the lack of any kind of official expression of sympathy for the victims, in contrast to the public response from government after a fire in a Dublin disco a few weeks later. The assumption, and impression, was that the authorities didn't care; that these participants, some of whom it was suggested by the press had criminal records, didn't matter and had somehow brought misfortune upon themselves.

A protest march several weeks later passed off mostly without incident but organisers were later arrested and 'Operation Swamp 81' saw police officers deployed in Brixton in early April, with up to 1,000 people stopped and searched under the controversial 'sus law'. When a black youth called Michael Bailey was stabbed, the police were accused of doing nothing to get him medical help and protest turned into full-scale riot. 'It's war,' said one man as he watched fire bombs fly past his office window. 'Police and black people are fighting on the street and we are in hiding.'

The exact events triggering the riot were, in a sense, less important than the environment and social issues affecting the immigrant Caribbean communities in areas such as Brixton, where more than fifty-five per cent of black youths were estimated to be out of work. As would be proved later in the year, many more of England's inner-city areas were tinder boxes waiting for the slightest spark to trigger conflagration. Unemployment and recession hit such communities hard and also made them targets for certain groups who saw their presence in Britain as contributing to the problems. In his report on the Brixton riot – and others that would break out during the summer – Lord Scarman said there was 'no doubt racial disadvantage was a fact of current British life'.

Dudley-born comedian Lenny Henry was one of Britain's few black celebrities at the turn of the decade, having become a familiar figure on television screens since winning the talent show _New Faces_ in 1975. 'The ways out of the ghetto are sport, music or entertainment,' he said, while highlighting the additional challenge faced by the immigrant community. 'I knew people at my school who were great footballers or great artists, or whatever, but it needs something else. It needs a tenacity and real will to succeed. It's not just an inborn talent. It's a real sense of "I've got to get out of here. I've got to do this."'

In such circumstances, Butcher acknowledged the cultural importance of his selection, even if the comments he made in the TCCB's official book of the tour had a scripted feel to them. 'I thought it important to show thousands of other young coloured people in England it was possible to succeed in the country,' he was quoted as saying. 'At the time [my] letter arrived, the dole queues were growing; many young coloured people were out of work and wondering what the future held for them. My selection would show that when the better times returned it would be possible to make progress if they tried hard enough.'

In our interview he admitted, 'Primarily, you are happy at the time and tend to overlook the historic context and focus more on the game. You grow up as a youngster wanting to achieve something and at the time it can overshadow the significance of other things. Later on, especially when I listened to the likes of Devon Malcolm, Norman Cowans and Gladstone Small, I became aware that I gave them a belief that they could also play for England.

'I guess the significance then becomes more important. Subconsciously it probably created a lot of pressure on me being the first black West Indian picked for England.'

Other black players would work their way into the England team in the ensuing decade, beginning with Middlesex team-mates Cowans (1982) and Wilf Slack (1986) and continuing through Small and Phil DeFreitas (1986), David Lawrence (1988) and Malcolm (1989).

Yet Butcher's own England career was already over. 'The best I batted was the final Test,' he said, 'but I got out just before close of play. I certainly felt that it would have been worth starting out with me [in the summer of 1981] to see how things went and I was disappointed that I didn't get the opportunity. Bear in mind we'd been playing against a strong West Indies side and the team had not performed that badly.'

But the importance of his mould-breaking three-Test career is acknowledged by those who came after him. 'What really clicked for me growing up was seeing Norman Cowans and Roland Butcher play for England,' said Jamaican-born Malcolm. 'All of a sudden I had great hopes. I said, "If these guys can get a chance to play for England then there must be some hope." It actually sowed the seed in my head really and from there a massive gate opened.'

Small, like Butcher, had arrived from Barbados when aged fourteen. 'I never came to play cricket, I came for family, education and all that sort of stuff,' he explained. 'Once I was playing cricket and trying to get to the best level I could get to England felt like home, so it seemed like a natural progression for me. I never considered going back to the Caribbean to play Having seen the likes of Roland and then Norman play for the English team, it made you realise that if they can do it the door is open'.

## **4
YOU MIGHT NEED SOMEBODY**

'He needs a father figure, and I need a younger brother' – Mike Brearley on Ian Botham

UNLESS you have spent the last three decades in a cave you've heard the story of the summer of 1981: unemployment and riots; Margaret Thatcher's tenuous hold on her leadership and Ian Botham's failure to maintain his; the messianic return of Mike Brearley; the 500/1 miracle of Headingley; the rebirth of the greatest all-rounder in the game; and the winning of the Ashes.

Entire library shelves are stocked with books about or relating to that year's most dramatic of series, while retro sports stations have filled hour upon hour replaying the pivotal moments. It has even spawned a docu-movie complete with theatrical Tom Hardy narration and that finest of Australian writers, Gideon Haigh, theorising about sport as history-before-our-eyes.

Yet, just as when a child begs for that favourite, familiar bedtime book, the story never seems to diminish in its re-telling. Such is the nature of the best fairy tales. And, in the context of what was to come in later years, that second summer of the 1980s was just that: a wonderful, mythical adventure in which the hero slays the monster and claims the Golden Fleece – or, in this case, the urn.

The narrative was made all the more glittering by the darkness, both sporting and social, from which it was forged. As well as the riots in Brixton, the spring of 1981 saw assassination attempts on recently inaugurated US president Ronald Reagan and the Pope; the trial of 'Yorkshire Ripper' Peter Sutcliffe for the murder of thirteen women; and the death of IRA hunger striker Bobby Sands in the Maze prison, the first of ten to die over the course of four months. Mrs Thatcher faced a revolt from cabinet members over the cuts in public spending she'd brought in as a way of halving inflation from a previous level of twenty per cent. Meanwhile, fifteen per cent of the UK manufacturing base disappeared over the course of two years and unemployment was hitting 2,500,000.

No wonder anxiety over the government's economic and social policies was seeping through so many areas of British life – although perhaps not too many cricket committee rooms. It was doubtful that The Specials' emotive number one hit of July, 'Ghost Town', was being hummed by the occupants of the Long Room at Lord's.

That month violence similar to Brixton's a few weeks earlier erupted in a dozen more cities, notably Liverpool's Toxteth district, Handsworth in Birmingham, the Chapeltown area of Leeds, various London boroughs and Sheffield. On a nightly basis, police fought battles with groups of angry protestors or, in some cases, opportunistic troublemakers. The media was filled with images of burning buildings and bloody participants on either side of riot shields and barricades of debris. The result was a surreal summer in which people got used to waking in the morning to check which cities had been left smouldering overnight and then planning how they would be following that day's play in the most absorbing of Ashes contests. 'I was driving through it all every day on the way to cricket grounds,' Botham recalled. 'It wasn't a very pleasant time and it was pretty tough for a lot of people.'

The Australians must have wondered what they had wandered into; civil rebellion coming at them from one direction and Superman from the other. Their squad had travelled with a glaring hole in the shape of captain Greg Chappell's decision not to tour, opting to concentrate on the expansion of his business activities in real estate and insurance. By the end of the summer it would be impossible not to wonder what difference the calming presence of Chappell would have made to a couple of botched run chases.

The decision to appoint Kim Hughes as tour leader opened a deep division in the squad, with the new captain on one side and his veteran Western Australia team-mates Dennis Lillee and Rodney Marsh on the other. The ACB–Packer rift merely added an extra layer of discontent to the old stagers' view that Marsh, a deep thinker about the game below his larrikin surface, should have been captain. Lillee would make his feelings clear by spending net sessions on tour trying to decapitate Hughes, his state skipper.

Other familiar names were missing. The omission of Doug Walters was based on his poor record on four previous England tours and ignored that he'd just averaged almost 58 during his country's home Test season. One Australian parliamentarian, Barry Cohen, was so incensed by the decision that he called for street protests and the sacking of the selectors. More surprising to many, though, was the decision to leave out Jeff Thomson after a season in which he had taken thirty-six Sheffield Shield wickets at a little over twenty. Instead, Thomson signed to spend the summer with Middlesex but lasted only a few weeks before injury put him out for the season.

Australia were hardly without resources in the fast bowling department, able to call upon previous England nemeses Dennis Lillee and Rodney Hogg, along with Geoff Lawson, called up for the first time the previous winter, and Terry Alderman, an uncapped Western Australian who would justify the selectors' hunch that he would thrive in English conditions. With Thomson also in England, it certainly seemed unthinkable that they would end up having to turn to an afro-haired left-armer called Mike Whitney. Yet the unknown from New South Wales played two Tests after having the good fortune to be in England playing league cricket for Fleetwood when injuries deprived the tourists of Hogg and Lawson.

It was the batting that looked more fragile, demonstrating its inconsistency throughout a series in which left-hander Allan Border proved his quality and skipper Hughes was a constant disappointment. And quite what Trevor Chappell, the lesser talented third brother, possessed to earn a place in the top order – other than his surname – no one could fathom.

England's selectors prepared for their final summer under the chairmanship of Alec Bedser, who, at the age of sixty-two, would be stepping down after thirteen seasons in the position and replaced by former captain Peter May. On the panel, John Edrich had been chosen to take the place of Ken Barrington, his former county colleague.

Their captain, Ian Botham, had non-cricketing issues to worry about before facing the Australians. At the end of April he was granted unconditional bail after appearing at Scunthorpe Magistrates' Court on his assault charge. Four days earlier, journalist and broadcaster Henry Blofeld said he had been jostled by Botham at Bermuda's airport because of the player's unhappiness at comments about him in the _Sunday Express_.

On the field, Australia's 2-1 victory in a low-scoring three-match Prudential Trophy series prior to the Tests underlined the depth of their bowling and, in most observers' eyes, erased the gap of Ashes favouritism previously enjoyed by the home team.

Before the series began, an attempt was made to address one of the blights of the game, the increasingly slow over rates. When the West Indies introduced their practice of playing four fast bowlers in the mid-'70s they slipped to little more than twelve overs per hour – in part a deliberate tactic to make batsmen feel even more pressure over opportunities to score and partly a natural consequence of the likes of Michael Holding ambling back forty yards to begin his run-up. Yet this was merely the escalation of a process that had been creeping in all over the world.

It was proposed to Australia that they should agree to 100 overs per day, with play beginning half an hour earlier than usual at 11am and no tea interval until sixty-five overs had been bowled. When the tourists' management rejected such a proposal they were considered by many to be unreasonable and uncooperative, although England had rejected plenty of proposals on playing conditions during their last visit to Australia. That series had also cemented in Australian minds that they were the rightful holders of the Ashes following their 3-0 victory. Their argument was that the Ashes was an abstract concept anyway, so they had as much right to claim them as England.

The scene was set for a combative, competitive series. We didn't know the half of it.

The combination of cloudy outlook and a lush, green wicket made the first toss of the series an important one. Hughes won it and Australia won the game, although England were outplayed comprehensively enough to be unable to hide fully behind the drop of the coin.

Having left out off-spinner John Emburey, England struggled to cope with the extravagant seam movement and were all out for 185. Bob Woolmer bagged the first of two ducks on his reinstatement to the team at number three and Alderman's swing and accuracy saw him announce himself to Test cricket with four wickets. Only Mike Gatting's patient 52, with a bit of lower-order support from Graham Dilley, nudged England's innings beyond the realm of embarrassment. Their runs appeared even more important when Australia were bowled out for 179, a total that could have been considerably lower had England not spilled six chances, including Border early in his innings of 69.

During the course of Saturday and the early part of the first-ever Sunday of Test cricket in England, the home team were dismissed for a miserable 125, Alderman and Lillee sharing the wickets. For what would not be the last time in the series, Australia set out in pursuit of a modest victory target, marking off the 132 runs on a makeshift scoreboard in their dressing room. Dilley did his best to make life difficult for them, taking four wickets before Chappell hit the winning runs in a four-wicket victory.

A drier pitch for the second Test at Lord's meant that Emburey was included in place of Mike Hendrick. Paul Downton paid for his costly drop of Border at Nottingham by seeing his place behind the stumps go to the reliable Bob Taylor, for whom June had been a remarkable month. It began with the award of an MBE, prompting the Essex players to go down on one knee when he went out to bat that day, and was followed in quick succession by scoring his maiden first-class century, becoming the first wicketkeeper with 200 Sunday League dismissals and breaking the Derbyshire record for victims in first-class cricket.

For the second time, Hughes invited England to bat, a decision Gooch clearly relished. His dismissal after a brisk start saw momentum ebb out of the innings, despite a half-century by Gatting, and the first day ended at 191 for 4, half an hour having been lost to bad light. Willey batted well for his 82 but the lower order, which included Woolmer returning after a first-day blow on the arm, crumbled against Lawson, whose seven wickets were no fewer than he deserved.

As at Lord's against the same opposition a year earlier, there was dissatisfaction among the crowd over the apparent reluctance to keep the game going. An extra hour was allowed to make up for lost time but after bad light halted play during that period umpires Don Oslear and Ken Palmer mistakenly ruled that play was not allowed to restart. Cushions were thrown on to the field and a statement issued by the TCCB apologising for the misinterpretation of the regulations.

England's bowling as Australia replied to their 311 was inaccurate and undisciplined, characterised by Willis's twenty-eight no-balls. The visitors were let off the hook after early wickets had put Botham's side in a position of strength and by midway through the fourth day they had achieved a first-innings lead of thirty-four. Boycott (60) and Gower (89) batted soundly second time around, although Hughes said that the pace of the former 'served our purpose'. Botham was unable to declare early enough on the fifth day for a realistic opportunity of victory, even though Australia did slip to 17 for 3 shortly after tea.

Instead, the final sessions had become all about the fortunes and future of the England captain. Having been out without scoring in the first innings, Botham was bowled behind his legs first ball as he tried to sweep Bright. He returned to the pavilion accompanied by the stoniest, most excruciating silence Lord's can ever have bestowed upon a dismissed home skipper; the members unwilling to raise their heads from newspapers as he passed through them. 'It was one of the most embarrassing moments for a cricketer I've ever experienced,' said Christopher Martin-Jenkins. Yet, as Brearley pointed out, 'What could the crowd do? Shout? Cheer?'

Emburey suggested, 'There was a little pressure on Ian because he hadn't wanted to play after the storm at the Centenary Test the previous year. A lot of members were very angry and I don't think they forgot that in 1981. When he got the pair quite a few members were happy about it.'

Forgotten in the moment of Botham's painful disappearance into the pavilion were the bombardment of blows that had enlivened cricket grounds around the world; the destructive bowling spells that had brought those same members to their feet in unseemly outpourings of boyish adoration. Right then, one wondered whether their like would ever be seen from him again.

Kathy Botham had been urging her husband for some time to give up the captaincy if Lord's could do no better than offer it to him on a game-by-game basis. Even before the ignominy of his pair, Botham knew that the time had come to follow her counsel. 'I simply didn't know whether I was coming or going,' he said. 'I could not plan ahead and, to be quite frank, the uncertainty was demoralising for me and the team.'

Botham sought out Bedser and informed him that he could not continue as captain unless appointed for the entire series. Bedser, whose selection committee had already decided to make a change, accepted his resignation. The players were more relieved than shocked. 'It didn't come as a surprise to anyone because Ian was struggling and England needed him at the top of his game,' said Emburey. Rob Steen, in his wonderful book about that summer, _500-1_ , recalled Dilley speaking of defeatism in Botham's team talks, while Willis said that 'we had undoubtedly lost our way'.

Writing in _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ , David Frith called Botham's departure 'a sad time indeed' but reflected the general view when he added, with no little prescience, 'If by the end of the summer the series is won, and if Botham has boomed back to the form which once made him the world's most exciting cricketer, the pain will not have been in vain.'

The new ex-skipper gave assurances that he would happily play under whomever was appointed as captain and then listened aghast as Bedser somewhat insensitively informed journalists that 'we had decided to make a change even before Ian came to see us', citing loss of form as the overriding factor. Bedser defended his revelation by arguing that he was merely answering a direct question – which the reporters welcomed – but in the modern era of media advisers and carefully scripted press conferences the chairman would likely have been spared such a gaffe. He concluded by announcing that Botham's successor had been identified but not yet informed.

The revelation of Mike Brearley as that man offered light relief to media outlets whose air time and column inches were dominated by the latest frightening outbreaks of night-time violence on the streets of London, Birmingham, Hull, Liverpool, Preston and Wolverhampton. So frequent were the outbreaks that venturing into town centres after dark had become an experience akin to a visit to a football terrace, with senses intensely and exhilaratingly alive to the potential dangers.

Far safer to stay at home and learn how Brearley, who answered a previous Ashes SOS in 1977 after Tony Greig swore allegiance to Kerry Packer, had responded to his country's urgent sporting need. Buoyed by his good form in the county game, where he had just scored four centuries during the month of June, Brearley suppressed his instinctive reluctance to return to the national spotlight and took up arms again.

His first call was to Gooch to gauge the mood of the dressing room, choosing the Essex man because he was more secure in his place in the team than the experienced Willis or county colleagues Emburey and Gatting. He also spoke to Botham to gain assurance that the deposed captain was in the right frame of mind to play on. Having received an unequivocal guarantee to that effect, Brearley expressed the hope that 'maybe he will feel utterly free and spontaneous with me in charge'.

While the Australians saw weakness in their hosts' return to the past to find a stop-gap captain, Brearley's appointment was welcomed by the England dressing room. 'Mike made a big difference to a lot of players' careers,' said Emburey. 'All the players learned from him in terms of dealing with people, building relationships, thinking about the game and developing a cricket brain.'

Botham described Brearley as being able to look into a player's eyes and see the back of his head, while Gatting felt his county captain broke through the hierarchy in the England team, deconstructed any cliques and 'while retaining his authority as captain, he still made everybody feel a part of the team'.

Lancashire fast bowler Paul Allott, who would be introduced to the team for his Test debut later in the summer, said, 'He was different to any captain I had played under before. His reputation went before him, which probably helped, and there was an aura around him. He even sat with you in press conferences, which captains don't do today. He was protective and bullish all at the same time. His influence was greater than any captain I played with. There was no doubt he was in charge, but he was part of the team too. He wouldn't be reclusive; he came out and had a drink.'

Gooch recalled Brearley's ability to lose his temper with his players without ever holding a grudge and described his impact on Botham in particular. 'He liberated Ian again, restored his confidence and allowed free rein to his talents,' he wrote. 'If Ian began horsing around at inappropriate times, Mike could put him down crushingly and Ian would immediately be as good as gold.'

As well as his renowned ability to get the best out of players, Emburey described Brearley as 'tactically the best I have ever played under' – an accolade bestowed by many in that era on Ray Illingworth or Keith Fletcher. John Arlott, who said it was 'difficult to believe there has ever been a better captain on either side', recalled a selector saying to him that 'off the field he is far and away the best we have ever had' and that tactically he was undoubtedly Illingworth's equal.

'He was as good as anyone,' Emburey continued. 'He studied batsmen, knew their strengths and weaknesses and would set fields accordingly. He would tell his bowlers where he wanted them to bowl to get that person out and you had to perform or he would get you out of the attack.'

Downton, another Middlesex colleague, added, 'Brears saw cricket as a conflict of the mind and he loved the mental challenge. He intimidated the opposition because of his intellectual reputation. I recall Peter Kirsten saying it felt like he was reading your mind and if he put a fielder somewhere batsmen would think, "What does he know that we don't?"'

Some had suggested that Brearley's original abdication may have been an admission that his own batting would be a liability against the West Indies. Stressing his desire not to denigrate his former skipper, Emburey also noted, 'Mike was a shrewd captain, but he was shrewd in other ways too. He came back having not captained against the West Indies.'

Brearley's first selection meeting of his second term of office resulted in Willis being left out of the third Test at Headingley. Having been suffering from a flu-like virus, he sat out Warwickshire's game at Surrey on the Saturday before the Test and told England physiotherapist Bernard Thomas that he would rest until Tuesday. Believing this was cutting it too fine to prove his fitness, the selectors omitted him. When he received the news via a phone call from Bedser, Willis said he was now only suffering from a cough and would have played for his county if he'd known he needed to prove his fitness. On hearing that bulletin, Bedser reinstated him and told him to play in the Sunday League and for Warwickshire's second eleven two days later. He still nearly didn't make it on to the Headingley field. Brearley almost included Emburey instead and spent most of the first day wishing he had.

Unafraid of getting up the Australians' noses the last time he had encountered them, Brearley was quickly at it again, complaining about Lillee's habit of leaving the field to change his shirt after bowling spells, although when informed by Hughes that it was a doctor's order following a bout of pneumonia he wondered if he should have voiced his concerns privately instead.

On the first day of one of cricket's most famous Tests, so surprised were England at Australia's decision to bat that Boycott and Gooch had already begun padding up during the ten minutes Hughes took to consult senior players and make his choice. The Aussie skipper was vindicated by a determined century by John Dyson, who was out just before the end of a rain-interrupted day that ended at 203 for 3.

Brearley's impact on Botham was felt on the second day. From his position at slip the skipper had noticed that Botham's approach to the crease had developed a slight deviation as he attempted to get his left shoulder round to produce more swing. Brearley goaded him with the nickname 'The Sidestep Queen' and told him to simply run in and bowl fast. Meanwhile, Botham had insisted on being given long spells in order to find his groove. The result was dramatic. 'His old rhythm and sharpness returned,' Brearley recalled. After Hughes (89) and Graham Yallop (58) had carefully built Australia's total, Botham reached his rollicking best after tea with a spell of 5 for 35, giving him six wickets for the innings – his best return since the final innings before he'd become captain. Australia declared at 401 for 9 and by tea on the Saturday had bowled England out for 174. The born-again Botham scored 50 off 54 balls, including eight fours, but was only just warming up.

Asked to follow on – against the judgement of Lillee – England were back in the pavilion after only three overs because of bad light. It was during that break in play that the Headingley scoreboard relayed to the crowd Ladbrokes's odds of 500/1 against an England victory. The events resulting from that would today be seen as sinister in the extreme given the current climate of professional cricket and its ongoing battle against match-fixing. But when Lillee, aware of the ludicrousness of such odds in a two-horse race, suggested to his team-mates that they put some money on England it was seen as a bit of harmless fun. Lillee ended up wagering £10 and Marsh £5, but no one was ever likely to seriously suspect them of not giving their all to beat the old enemy. 'Marsh and Lillee would have a punt on Martians landing if they got those odds,' was Gower's reaction.

Rather than being a sign of anything underhand, others felt Lillee and Marsh's actions were an indication of the somewhat frivolous approach of the Australian team. Gideon Haigh said he could never have imagined that bet being struck under Greg Chappell's leadership.

Few who turned up at Headingley on Monday expected anything other than a quick Australian victory. Even Brearley was telling himself that only rain could save his team, many of whom had already checked out of their hotel. When Dilley joined Botham at the crease at 135 for 7 those same players were congratulating themselves for their foresight and planning their getaways. Brearley had changed into street clothes before deciding that, for appearance's sake, he had better at least put a cricket shirt back on as he sat on the balcony.

With ninety-two still needed to make Australia bat again, Dilley, who had bowled poorly and figured he would be dropped anyway, took the chance to enjoy himself, especially when Botham greeted him with, 'The game's gone. Just give it some humpty.' Blocking anything straight, Dilley connected with some exaggerated drives against anything slightly wide, while the Australians made the mistake of feeding his preferred line rather than sticking the ball into his ribs. Botham, whose thirty-nine runs before tea had taken him eighty-seven minutes, responded by proving that as hard and far as Dilley could hit, he could hit longer and more lustily. 'We had all given up,' said Gower, 'Beefy too. He wasn't playing seriously anymore.'

Some shots he middled perfectly, both feet rising from the ground as he connected. Others screamed to the rope off the edge. He raced into three figures with fourteen further boundaries and a six into a confectionary stand, each bludgeoning blow bringing a bigger smile to his face. Botham was finally having fun again – although he insisted it was the sheer joy of being in form rather than any release of pressure post-captaincy. Brearley greeted Botham's century by pointing to the wicket and mouthing, 'Stay there.'

Dilley went for 56 out of a partnership of 117 and Chris Old added some thumps of his own, scoring 29 in a stand of 67. Meanwhile, Botham had survived a couple of Lawson beamers and showed no sign of letting up. At the close of play, England were 124 ahead with still one wicket to fall. Botham, having posed with pads still on for a much published photograph of him lighting up a cigar in the dressing room, told the BBC's Peter West, 'Fifty or sixty more and it could be interesting.' Unwilling to do any further interviews, Botham allowed Brearley to smuggle him out of the ground, while other members of the team were given a standing ovation when they called in at a fish and chip restaurant on their way back to the team hotel.

England managed five more runs on the last morning, Botham left unbeaten on 149 and Australia requiring only 130 to go two up in the series. At 56 for 1, they were cruising. Then Willis, tired of bowling uphill, asked to switch to the Kirkstall Lane End. Botham and Taylor backed his argument when consulted by Brearley, who'd been reserving that end for Botham's swing and had feared Willis's potential for no-balls when running down the slope.

'I remember the best advice Mike gave me during the '81 series,' said Willis. 'I had always had no-ball problems during my career but he said, "Forget about that. I just want you to run in and bowl fast and intimidate these guys." That was my job in the team. Mike was always an inspirational character and, apart from Philippe Edmonds, he had success with virtually everyone he captained.'

Making the most of having the wind behind him, Willis began charging in as though Aeolus himself was at his backside. 'Bob's transformation was equally crucial,' Brearley would note, describing him as 'the only really quick bowler on either side', someone who could make the ball climb from a good length and keep the batsmen, literally, on their toes.

Chappell fell to a bouncer, Hughes edged low to Botham at third slip and Yallop gloved a brutish ball to short leg. 'You could feel the mood and tension in that room,' said Border of the visitors' increasingly worried inner sanctum. By lunch Australia were 58 for 4 and with every wicket Willis appeared to slip more deeply into a trance, continuing to stare somewhere into the distance and barely cracking a smile or exchanging a word as excited team-mates congratulated him. 'Probably half the nation thought I was on drugs of some sort,' he admitted.

Old removed Border after the interval and then it was all Willis again. Dyson and Marsh both fell to the hook, one a glove to Taylor, the other a neat boundary catch by Dilley. Lawson edged behind and Australia were teetering at 75 for 8, only for Lillee and Bright to battle back with a counter-attack worth 35. With nerves becoming more frayed with every delivery, Lillee chipped towards mid-on and saw Gatting, never the fleetest-looking fielder, advance and dive forward to scoop up a one-handed catch. 'People remember the dive at mid-on to get Lillee but I caught what I thought was a better one at short leg to get Graham Yallop,' he would argue.

A single later, Willis scattered Bright's stumps with a yorker and charged in an arc, arms pumping skywards. He had taken 8 for 43 and Australia were all out for 111. Up and down the country people leapt around in front of TV screens, next to their radios or outside high street electrical stores. The party mood predicted to engulf the country a week later with the marriage of Prince Charles and Lady Diana had descended early. It was a moment that had brought the country to a halt. Now, the nation bounced back to their jobs.

Champagne corks popped on the players' balcony and Fred Trueman handed the Man of the Match award to Botham with the description that it had been 'a captain's performance that came one game too late'. Interviewed again by Peter West, Botham joked that the failure to add those extra runs had 'made it even more interesting' and provoked great cheers from the crowd around the pavilion when he praised Willis for 'answering those critics who had written him off.'

Yet when a freshly-bathed Willis emerged, there was a moment of sourness, something he described years later as 'giving two fingers to the press'. The son of a journalist, he had been angry with the newspapers ever since he felt they had manufactured quotes about his refusal to sign for Kerry Packer in 1977. He, Brearley and Botham had all been unhappy with reports of unrest in the dressing room. Some had stemmed from Willis's comments – subsequently investigated by the TCCB – to a Coventry radio station saying that Botham's form had been affected by the captaincy. Gower wrote at the time, 'Too much was made of the vice-captain's comments concerning the captain, spuriously obtained via the radio, with most newspapers choosing to see a rift between [them].'

Dressed in a light grey jumper of his sponsor, Duncan Fearnley, Willis appeared barely to have emerged from his dazed on-field state. Physio Bernard Thomas would even describe him as being like a 'zombie' for forty minutes after the game. Glazed of eye, he told West, 'The standard of journalism in this country has gone down the nick completely. [Cheers from the crowd.] People have to rely on small-minded quotes from players under pressure where they used to write about cricket. They don't seem to be able to do that anymore.'

West brought Willis round with, 'Bob, can't we stick to a happier topic?' but the bowler still told the newspaper reporters later, 'Some of you lot wish we had lost.' Reminded of his outburst, Willis – now a stalwart of the media through his television work for Sky Sports – chuckled and admitted, 'We're all poachers turned gamekeepers.'

A footnote to the Test was that Brearley and Botham spoke with the _Daily Mail'_ s Peter Smith in an effort to find a friendlier foundation for player–press relations. Of course, a winning team offered a far greater basis for cordiality.

Besides, Botham was suddenly everyone's darling again, events at Headingley marking the beginning of a three-Test sequence that would forever link his name with the series. At Edgbaston, it was his intervention with the ball that rescued another seemingly perilous position in a game that Brearley described as 'the most heated, combative' Test in which he ever played.

A good-looking pitch had left Brearley in no doubt about batting first. A belatedly changed order, with the skipper opening, Gower at three and Gooch protected from the new ball at four, was all out for 189 by 5.30pm. Alderman took five wickets and Brearley stubbornly top-scored with 48. Australia, two down to Old by the end of the first day, responded with 258 and England spent the third day crawling their way to a modest lead. Boycott batted three hours for a mere 29 and it was the late-order hitting of Emburey and Old that saw them finish their innings 142 ahead.

The fourth day began with Willis firing out Dyson and Hughes, but Border seemed as serene as if he were out for a Sunday morning stroll and, at 105 for 4, Australia were again within sight of victory. Botham's feats from here on in are those remembered by history, but just as Dilley helped provide the catalyst for his innings at Headingley, so Emburey made a critical contribution with a lifting ball that saw Border caught off his glove.

Willey, who was preparing to bowl from the City End, partly at Botham's suggestion, was waved away by Brearley and Botham was offered the ball. Gower referred to Brearley's ability to act decisively like that during a small run chase as one of his great strengths, confessing that he would have 'questioned every decision ten times'.

Having been 'strangely diffident' up to that point, according to Brearley, Botham was told to keep things tight for Emburey but proceeded to wrap up the game in forty minutes. Racing in with the crowd rising in volume with every step, he simply bowled full and straight. It was too much for Australia's confused batsmen. Still scarred from the previous Test, they came and went in a blur, Botham greeting each wicket with a gladiatorial pose and Alderman losing his leg stump to finish things off. Botham's five-wicket spell took fewer than six overs and was at the cost of a single run.

By now the nation was abuzz with events at the cricket. Brearley and Botham received letters telling them how the matches had made people forget personal problems or offered much-needed distraction from headlines about riots, unemployment and inflation. 'People identified with the cricket team,' said Brearley. 'There was something euphoric then, as though we represented something for the country which was making people feel better.'

There was more to come and the destination of the Ashes was effectively determined on a stunning Saturday at Old Trafford, where Botham spent a couple of hours demolishing Australia's bowling once again. Even Lillee was made to look no more effective than the thousands of club bowlers who were trundling up and down around the country while Botham was in full swing.

Injury to Hogg and Lawson had found Australia giving a Test debut to left-armer Whitney, a veteran of six first-class matches. England recalled Knott for the unlucky Taylor so as to prevent too long a tail – the story of Taylor's career – and also had a seamer on debut, the fashionably mulleted Lancastrian Allott. 'It did come as a surprise,' he recalled. 'There were a whole bunch of bowlers who had played previously in the series who were injured or out of favour, so I was probably next in a pretty long line. I would imagine it is the pinnacle of most people's careers to be picked for England, but to be picked in that Ashes series at my own ground made it a triple whammy.'

Chris Tavaré was also back in the team, filling a number three position from which seven different players had produced a meagre 111 runs in the past 18 innings. Brearley was 'convinced we needed a specialist number three batsman, someone who relished the problems of that position' and believed the Kent man had been unluckily sacrificed after the West Indies battles. The change meant that Gooch was back at the top of the order; a first three of Boycott, Brearley and Tavaré would have been enough to induce stupor just thinking about it. Brearley, meanwhile, felt that Boycott had become tentative and weighed down by the proximity of Colin Cowdrey's England record of 7,624 Test runs, which he would pass early in the first innings.

On a pitch with moisture lurking just below the surface Brearley's hesitance before deciding to bat was justified by a score of 175 for 9 at the close of the first day, Tavaré's 69 being the first half-century from an England number three in twelve Tests. Allott and Willis muscled a further 56 the next morning, with the debutant reaching his maiden fifty in first-class cricket.

Australia's reply offered evidence of brains still befuddled by recent collapses. Graeme Wood set off like a man who had just invented Twenty20 cricket but – after Willis's pace, bounce and accuracy had done for Dyson, Yallop and Hughes in the space of seven balls – he was trapped by Allott. 'I remember Brearley saying, "You got here by the way you bowled in county cricket, don't change it,'" Allott explained. 'He gave me the new ball over Beefy and I am sure that was on the back of me getting fifty-odd and the crowd being very supportive. I got a wicket fairly early on and he whipped me off and got Beefy on.'

Martin Kent's half-century could only take Australia to 130, a first-innings deficit of 101. Yet Saturday saw the game swinging back towards the tourists and when Botham joined Tavaré England were 104 for 5, struggling to build a match-winning advantage. What happened next was something that the 20,000 crowd and millions of television viewers would never forget.

In three minutes over two hours Botham reached 118 off 102 balls, including a then Ashes record six sixes and thirteen fours. He reached his hundred with a burst of 72 runs off 33 deliveries. Yet the joy of the innings was in its manner more than its mathematics. Where his Headingley performance had been all brute force and good fortune, this one managed to achieve a more classical execution while being no less violent. _Wisden_ made the comparison with the great hitter of the turn of the century, Gilbert Jessop.

It was when Alderman and Lillee took the second new ball that his innings really exploded, as if affronted by the notion that it might be any kind of threat. Three times he hooked Lillee into the crowd, each time taking the ball later and closer to his eyebrows, as he smashed sixty-six runs in an eight-over spell. He reached three figures with a slog sweep for six off Bright and deposited the same bowler over the sightscreen. Tavaré was still there when Botham went, going on to an important seven-hour 78 that included the third-slowest fifty in Test history, 304 minutes. Knott and Emburey enjoyed greater freedom and both scored half-centuries.

After the trauma of Headingley and Edgbaston, Australia may in some ways have been relieved not to be chasing a hiding-to-nothing type target, but 506 was considerably more than they would have envisaged before Botham's arrival and way beyond anything achieved in Test matches. A stylish century by Yallop and a determined one by a broken-fingered Border – at 373 minutes the slowest ever for Australia – were just enough to maintain the tantalising possibility of another remarkable twist, but in the end the tourists fell 104 runs short and Gatting's catch at short leg secured the Ashes.

It was perhaps inevitable that after the excitement of previous games and with the series decided the sixth Test would be relatively humdrum. Not that Border would have found it so as he scored another unbeaten hundred in a total of 352 after Australia were put in. Botham took six wickets to continue his Midas-like run. Puzzlingly, England's attack included the veteran Hendrick, brought into the squad for the injured Old and then preferred to Allott, who became the latest in the line of England players dropped after one Test. 'There was a sense they were going with experience but, having won the series, I don't know why they didn't go with me,' Allott said. 'They did say I would be going on the winter tour, which I suppose was a bit of a sop. All I can say is that I got wickets and runs and got dropped. But I could see why because I had come from nowhere and I wasn't part of their thinking at the start of the summer. I wasn't particularly upset for any length of time.'

Gooch and Gower were absent from the batting line-up at The Oval after Bedser suggested some late-series experimentation, Wayne Larkins and Sussex's Paul Parker installed in their stead. Brearley had maintained his place, despite suggestions that, with his job done, he might give way to whoever would lead the team to India in the winter.

England's reply, once Larkins had gone, was slow going. Boycott found the boundary only three times in a 328-minute century, content to use the pace of the pitch and the bowling to deflect and divert his way to three figures. Wickets fell steadily at the other end – including Gatting padding up after reaching an aggressive fifty – and Lillee's expertise with the second new ball earned him his best figures in Test matches, 7 for 89. Ahead by 38, Australia took advantage of injuries to Willis and Botham to set England 383 to win on the last day, the bespectacled Dirk Wellham scoring a hundred on his Test debut.

After Lillee and Whitney made early inroads, Gatting again counter-attacked his way past 50, while no one on the ground – Aussies apart – begrudged Brearley the nearly three hours it took him to reach a farewell half-century. Knott made a typically quirky unbeaten 70 but the indelible memory of the final day was the standing ovation given to Brearley as he exited Test cricket for the final time.

No one was in any doubt about the contribution he had made to an incredible summer – certainly not Botham, inevitably named Man of the Series. 'I don't know what it is, but I took stuff from him that I'd clip other guys round the ear for,' he admitted. 'There is something about Brears. He knows how I feel and what I'm thinking'. It was a partnership that defied logical explanation, yet defined this most remarkable of seasons.

### **Too Much Too Young**

Brian Close knew Ian Botham better than anyone. Yet when the former England captain told his fellow Test selectors that the young man he had nurtured at Somerset was not ready for the responsibility about to be thrust upon him, no one had listened. Botham, said Close at the start of the 1980 season, was a future England captain but too inexperienced, naïve and headstrong to be given the role at the age of twenty-four.

Botham himself would have favoured Brearley's proposed succession plan, in which the Middlesex man carried on as captain throughout that summer series against the West Indies before handing over the reins for the winter tour. Botham went as far as saying, 'I believe that if this had happened my career as captain would almost certainly have lasted far longer than it did. Brears could have taught me a lot about how to get the best out of players'.

He even confessed that 'my approach to man-management amounted to little more than making sure nobody drank alone' and described his method of team preparation as 'psyching each other up over a pint or two'. He would be shocked to find, when he returned to Test cricket after suspension in 1986, that new team manager Micky Stewart was preparing dossiers on the opposition. Botham found them 'counter-productive'. Leading by example was his preferred method, and when his performance disintegrated there was little else to fall back on.

Bob Willis, one of the people to whom Botham would happily turn for tactical advice, believes that 'his shortcomings as a captain were off the field more than on it'. He explained, 'Beefy did not like practising the game very much at all. He was never frightened against any bowler in the middle but he was physically frightened of batting in the nets; he hated being enclosed. He used to set himself the task of trying to hit the press corps and got it over with as quickly as possible. He would lollop up and bowl about 20 deliveries and then he'd want a sit-down. He practised his slip catches and fielding diligently but if you hate practice as much as Ian did it is hard to organise practice and be enthusiastic about nets. That was a major problem because the captain organised practice in those days.'

Botham even went as far as trying to ban Gooch, a renowned fitness enthusiast, from taking early-morning runs because, Gooch believed, he wanted him to be awake and alert in the bar after dinner. 'How can you instruct someone like he tried with me and my running when deep down inside you know it's probably yourself who needs a reprimand?' the batsman pondered.

Willis continued, 'Tactically, Ian has a very good brain, although he perhaps under-bowled himself. Under Brearley he bowled an enormous amount of overs and he was beginning to have back problems. That would be the only criticism of him as a captain on the field.'

Botham could argue that few other captains would have made a better start after being pitted against the West Indies for two series. 'I don't think Beefy did a bad job in the West Indies,' Willis said, 'but clearly they were steamrollering everyone. As Gower found out later, you are better off, like Mike Brearley, not captaining against them.'

Gower noted that 'we didn't do so badly' against the West Indies under Botham, adding, 'Ian's captaincy was an instinctive affair. He has always been an instinctive cricketer and reader of the game – a very good reader of the game in fact. In the home series we could have won at Trent Bridge. There was a lot of rain in that series and my dropped chance could have been vital. It would have been a feather in Ian's cap. I am not one to judge a man who has gone down 1-0 when I have gone down twice 5-0.'

Bill Athey, a tourist in the Caribbean, argued, 'With hindsight he wasn't the person to lead that tour, but it was difficult even for an experienced captain. Everything was stacked against us; the strength of the two squads and the things that went on, like getting flown out of Guyana and Kenny Barrington's death. What a bloody nightmare tour it was.'

The loss of Barrington, whom Botham felt equally comfortable with talking about the game or making the butt of his jokes, was not merely devastating on a personal and emotional level but also in a practical sense as he continued to learn about the game. Losing vice-captain and confidante Willis to injury during the tour was a further setback.

John Emburey observed, 'It was always going to be a difficult situation for Ian because of the character he was and having to follow Mike, who was such a good leader and well-respected in the dressing room. Captaining against the West Indies was going to be tough and he copped them home and away. His own performance went backwards and, whereas we'd relied on him and he'd been at the forefront of winning games, the pressures of captaincy meant we didn't see the best of him.

'That affected his leadership. He was totally opposite to Mike, who was quiet and happy to let things go along if they were going well. Ian was a little bit more "up and at 'em", which is OK if your team is good enough but if they are struggling and you sense you are not going to win then it is very difficult to have that attitude. Even though we'd had a lot of success under Mike, we were still pretty up and down, especially on tour, and I don't think the side that went to the West Indies was particularly strong. It was difficult for Both to pick us up and get us going. One or two players sensed he wasn't the right character as captain.'

Peter Willey suggested to Botham he should distance himself from the team, not try to be one of the lads, but Botham admitted that striving for that separation was among the most difficult aspects of the job. Willey also described team meetings under Botham as the captain telling everyone that he would take all the wickets and score all the runs before he started tossing bread rolls at people.

Brearley observed that Botham 'found it hard to captain himself, to find that blend of restraint and liberation'. And he felt that the stubborn Botham lacked someone to keep him in check. 'Before, when I was captain, I would find that his initial response to a mild criticism from me would be trenchantly opposed; but that he would in his own time often come to see my point,' he recorded. 'When he was captain his stubbornness encountered dangerously fewer obstacles.' One player had even told Brearley that he'd been physically afraid of Botham on occasions.

An example of Botham's approach had been Chris Old's late withdrawal from the Barbados Test because, he told his skipper, he had been stung by an insect. Botham felt he 'had simply bottled out' and played Robin Jackman instead but acknowledged that Brearley would have encouraged Old and convinced him that the situation was made for him to have a good game.

Roland Butcher had no other Test captain with whom to compare but felt that 'Botham was not a typical captain'. He added, 'He had great self-belief but he was such a competitor that he would compete with everybody at everything. As a captain you must allow your players to do what they have been selected to do. You can't always do everything. But Ian is that kind of forthright person and it was not easy to be like that with characters like Boycott, Gower, Emburey and Willis. A lot of people didn't take to Ian's style of leadership.'

A year after his dismissal as captain, David Frith would look back in _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ and comment, 'Botham's appointment was a courageous one, based on hope and marking a departure from the usual policy of choosing a captain from outside the team's hard core of playing ability. Such was his magic touch that successful leadership, based on dynamic example, seemed but a natural extension of his abundant gifts.'

Despite the erosion of that magic touch, Brearley maintained that Botham 'had many of the qualities of a captain', describing him as 'shrewd tactically'. Yet there were contradictions, which may have been smoothed had the opportunity for leadership come in later life. Although Brearley said Botham could be generous to less talented colleagues he also spoke of occasions when he could 'become implacable in his disparagement of certain players'.

Perhaps, in the final analysis, the biggest fault of Botham's captaincy was its timing.

## **5
HAND HELD IN BLACK AND WHITE**

'Touring and Test cricket was not all it was cracked up to be' – Graham Gooch

SOUTH Africa had been absent from world cricket for ten years by the time the 1980s began but the threat the nation and its apartheid regime posed to cricket, via the differing political stances it provoked, would hover over the sport like the mushroom cloud of nuclear war for the entire decade.

Already, the complex issues of participation in South African cricket had almost brought England's most recent winter tour to a halt. Now, the six-Test series in India was in danger of never even starting. Again, it was the presence of certain connections on players' recent résumés that had created potential conflict.

The South African Non-Racial Olympic Committee (SANROC) had provided to the United Nations' special committee against apartheid a blacklist of sportsmen with links to South Africa. Appearing on it, having had contact with the country since September 1980, were a group of English cricketers including Geoff Boycott, Bob Woolmer, Geoff Cook, Keith Pont, David Turner, Paul Parker and Tony Pigott. When Boycott and Northamptonshire opener Cook were named in the England touring party, the Indian government objected. The stories of Basil D'Oliveira and Robin Jackman should have warned them that the TCCB would walk away from the matches rather than be dictated to over team selection. It was even announced on a noon news bulletin one day that the tour was definitely off – only for a correction to be made an hour later.

The cricket boards of both England and India, conscious that cancellation could irrevocably split Test cricket along colour lines, were working feverishly to find a solution. The one upon which they eventually agreed, despite the hindrance of Boycott being in Hong Kong on holiday, was that the two players would issue statements clarifying their strong opposition to apartheid. While Cook complied, Boycott felt 'it was not up to me to get the politicians off the hook' and instead pointed to comments he'd made in a recently published book, which he felt made clear his views on South Africa and its politics. Indian prime minister Indira Gandhi was satisfied and another crisis had passed. For now.

England travelled under their third captain in the space of four months, Mike Brearley's appointment having only ever been short-term expediency. The choice of Keith Fletcher as his successor was, for many reasons, a logical one, based on his success at Essex, where he had encouraged positive cricket and inspired players to achieve beyond their talent. Fletcher, aged thirty-seven, was named days after leading his county to the John Player League title. As a tactician, few in the county game were considered his equal and, between 1979 and 1986, Essex would win the County Championship four times, the Sunday League on three occasions, plus the NatWest Trophy and Benson and Hedges Cup.

Fletcher undoubtedly benefitted from the traditional English preference for choosing the most suitable leader, regardless of his selection merits as a player. Having made the most recent of his 52 Test appearances in 1977 there was little argument for him being worthy of a place in the middle order in the long term. However, his ability against spin bowling had never been in doubt. He had made the first of his seven Test centuries in India in 1972-73 and had been recalled to tour there again four years later after being discarded following his traumatic experiences against Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson.

Other notable aspects of the squad selection were the inclusion of only two spinners, John Emburey and Derek Underwood, the recall of Graham Dilley and the return of Fletcher's thirty-two-year-old Essex colleague John Lever to the land where his left-arm seam had made such an impact on his debut tour five years earlier.

The cricket produced during the Test series proved considerably less enthralling than the diplomatic wrangling that had eventually allowed it to take place. Having won the first of a six-Test series in Bombay, India were content to bat themselves to safety in the remaining matches in order to preserve their lead. With little penetration on lifeless wickets, England were powerless to prevent them.

In the days before the shorter versions of cricket became king in India, the matches attracted massive crowds – including a world-record 394,000 at Calcutta. It was a shame that those spectators had so few memorable moments to savour, with the second, third and fifth Tests, for example, producing only fifty-nine wickets in fifteen days. England's 213 for 3 in the final Test was the most runs on any first day of the series, while over rates were stuck at around thirteen an hour. India's inability – or disinclination – to bowl quicker than that with its attack comprised mostly of spinners 'made a travesty of cricket', according to _Wisden_.

'Unfortunately Sunil Gavaskar ruined that tour,' is the verdict of vice-captain Bob Willis. 'We played the last five Tests on the slowest, most unresponsive pitches you had ever seen. The over rate with spinners bowling for both sides got down to nine or ten an hour. It was the most turgid cricket imaginable. Keith kept pretty jolly and was a good guy and I enjoyed being his vice-captain, but I felt sorry for him being in charge through that tour.'

Even Paul Allott, who loved the novelty of his first tour and enjoyed India as a country, admitted, 'I was wide-eyed with it all, but the cricket was pretty bloody awful. I remember Dilley and me bowling eight overs and three balls in the first hour on one day.'

At least the uneven bounce at the Wankhede Stadium always made a result likely in the opening match of the series. And in a one-hour period on the second day, that result – and with it the destination of the series – was decided.

England had gone into the Test series with four wins in five tour matches, including the first one-day international, and their batsmen in good form. They were less content with the standard of the umpiring they had encountered and expressed such a view in a letter to the Indian Board on the eve of the first Test. It was not to be their last word on the subject.

India were bowled out for 179 late on the first day and England set out on a laborious reply that looked at one point likely to achieve a useful lead. The solid foundation was laid by those most unyielding of batsmen, Boycott and Chris Tavaré, who shared a safety-first partnership of 92 that took up fifty-nine overs. Boycott's 60 off 193 balls was outdone in its obduracy by Tavaré's 240-ball innings of 56. Yet from 131 for 3 just before tea on the second day, England slumped to 166 all out in the face of a series of debatable umpiring decisions. Gower's run-out was borderline at best, but then came three dismissals via the trigger finger of Kasturi Ramaswamy, who had already ruffled English feathers by warning Botham for running on the pitch. He gave Fletcher out lbw sweeping against left-arm spinner Dilip Doshi, even though the captain clearly thought he had got an edge. Then Botham, playing the same shot, felt he had made no contact when ruled caught at slip. Tavaré also fell to Doshi, before Emburey became another lbw victim when extending his front leg down the track – the kind of decision rarely given in favour of the bowlers in the days before Hawkeye. Doshi had taken four wickets for nine runs in five overs.

Botham bowled a magnificent, big-hearted spell through the heat and humidity of the third morning, during which he took three of his five wickets, and at 157 for 8 India were in far from a winning position. But then Kapil Dev struck the ball more assuredly than anyone else in the game, his 46 off 50 balls allowing his team to set a target of 241.

India's innings ended early on the fourth day, by which time England had already used the rest day to state their unhappiness at the officiating, an apparent attempt to pre-empt accusations of sour grapes in the case of defeat. Fletcher, who would later say that the series had been 'undermined by the worst umpiring I have ever encountered', included in his post-match report a recommendation that Ramaswamy be removed from first-class cricket. The Indian board dismissed the protest on the grounds that no specific instances had been referred to by the English camp.

That England should resort to official protest brought up an interesting comparison to their last tour there five years earlier, when charismatic captain Tony Greig had barely stepped off the plane before he began lavishing praise on the local umpires. Suitably charmed, the match officials gave the touring team little cause for concern. The more confrontational approach did appear to have an effect, though, as there was little controversy in further games. And when England objected to the appointment of Mohammed Ghouse for the third Test they were able to give enough detailed reasons for the offending official to be replaced.

Chronicling the tour in his book _Cricket Wallah_ , Scyld Berry observed, 'My impression was that after the Bombay Test all the umpires, if occasionally hasty of judgement, were unquestionably sincere.' Yet the damage had been done and was irreparable. Fletcher admitted that England batted a second time at Bombay with 'a complex' about the umpiring. Gooch even suggested to his skipper that he might as well go home if he could never get past twenty without being given out.

England never looked like a team who thought their target within their capabilities. Fletcher had declined the use of the roller on the pitch in case it widened the cracks and before long England were 50 for 6, done for by the swing of Kapil Dev and the skiddy cutters of Madan Lal. Botham's achievement of passing 2,000 runs and 200 Test wickets in record time during the course of the innings was scant consolation as England were dismissed for 102, then the lowest score by a visiting Test team in India.

And that, as far as decisive cricket in this series, was that. On wickets designed to suck the life out of the game, there would be no way back for an England team whose batting line-up struggled to elevate a match out of a defensive rut. 'We didn't exactly pick a side to set the world alight,' said Jack Richards, who spent the tour as second-choice wicketkeeper. 'We were blocking it and blocking it.'

England's selection for the second Test at Bangalore – the insertion of an extra batsman, Gatting, in place of Emburey – hinted at an ambition that stretched little further than ensuring they avoided going two down so early in the series. The selection of Richards to keep wicket, which would have strengthened the batting without the loss of a bowler, was apparently barely considered. 'I thought I had a good chance of playing at some point because I could bat,' he said. 'I was picked mainly as number two keeper but I thought that if my batting came on I had a chance of playing. But the selection committee was all the senior players and there seemed to be a bit of a gentlemen's agreement in the way they went about it. They wanted the safety of Bob Taylor instead of my youth. That was it; you didn't play.'

That particular state of affairs offered Richards an unhappy insight into the life of a tourist who can't get into the first team – even on a trip offering more opportunities for cricket outside the Tests than has become the modern norm. 'It was mundane,' he said. 'And when I found myself not being part of it, I was made a servant. I was running around getting drinks for everybody, trying to be a so-called team man, which I found very frustrating. I said to [manager] Raman Subba Row, "I thought I was here to play cricket, not to serve drinks." Maybe that's why they didn't pick me for years. I knew what I needed to do to make myself successful. I didn't necessarily buy into the fact that being a good team man makes you a successful cricketer. I was out on a limb in terms of what was expected of me as part of what it takes to make a winning team. I didn't think that serving drinks made a winning team.'

Richards, who averaged 51 in limited first-class opportunities on tour, would return to be told that he had apparently upset the management. 'I thought I had quite a good tour and I did get to play in a couple of one-dayers. I had quite a good batting average. But Micky Stewart called me in [at Surrey] and said, "You have got a bad report from the tour of India." I don't know if that was what they thought about me saying I should be classified as a cricketer and not a waiter. Maybe I rubbed Subba Row or Fletcher the wrong way. It doesn't take much for one person to shut you out. No one ever gave me a copy of the report and nobody explained it to me, which was typical of England management and selection at that time.'

If England's priority in the second Test had been prevention of another defeat, a total of 400 stretching over two days at least achieved it. Gooch's half-century, his best score since the previous winter, hinted at a return to form but the innings was better typified by Tavaré's painful 22 in three hours. Gower's half-century in 101 minutes, unremarkable by his own standards, seemed positively reckless in comparison.

Tavaré's effort was exactly the kind of innings – like his four-hour 42 against the West Indies – that cemented the reputation he would carry throughout his Test career; one with which he has no argument. 'In the context of England cricket it was fair,' he said. 'That's the way I felt it was my role to bat, because there were lots of stroke-makers at the other end. My role was to be there and not give my wicket away and I didn't have the ability to take on the really top bowlers in the way that [others] could. In the county context I was a very different cricketer.'

Playing with a low back-lift, Tavaré's grip saw him place the top hand at the back of the bat handle to allow for a high defence, but made him less assertive in attack. 'Because the bowling is of a higher standard in Test cricket you tend to limit yourself more than in county cricket,' he once explained. 'Perhaps I limited myself too much.' But he offered different qualities than the ability to score quickly; concentration and discipline to name two. After each delivery he would walk towards square leg as a way of calming himself, and his judgement of which balls to leave was a testament to his focused mind. 'He was as cocooned as a silkworm,' Robin Marler wrote of him. Off the field, he could be similarly insular, with Gooch recalling that he 'barely uttered a word' during their time as room-mates.

Graeme Fowler, who would soon begin a Test career that saw him open with Tavaré on numerous occasions, stated, 'He was brilliant. The best way to dominate a bowler is not get out. Tav got 60-odd all day at Perth [in 1982-83] and saved the match. The ability to stay in is first and foremost what you need. There is no point in getting 25 off 25 balls and getting out in a Test. Tav had that; he was dogged. In county cricket he would smash it everywhere but in Test cricket he had Gower, Lamb and Botham around him so he could just tie up one end and let the others play their strokes. I loved batting with him. How he played never bothered me.'

Having arrived at the crease after Tavaré and nightwatchman John Lever were dismissed late on the first day in Bangalore, skipper Fletcher's sense of calm – and self-control – was pushed beyond breaking point when he was adjudged caught behind for 25 while trying to sweep Ravi Shastri. His reaction was to swipe at the stumps with his bat, knocking off a bail. Admitting that 'the red mists were upon me', Fletcher was unable any longer to keep the frustrations of the tour below the surface. 'I had been in India about six weeks and felt happy with only one of the seven dismissals I had suffered,' he said, adding, 'Far worse things were going through my mind than the tap of a bail with my bat which I finally administered on my way off. I felt like flattening all three stumps.'

Acknowledging that it was, nevertheless, the duty of the England captain to set a better example, he wrote to the Indian board to 'express my apologies for the incident on Thursday afternoon when I tapped the wicket after my dismissal' and assured them it was 'an act of disappointment' rather than a 'show of dissent'. It was, however, an act he – and others – believe Lord's ended up weighing heavily against him.

Indian captain Gavaskar proved to be simply immovable over the course of the next two days, batting for almost twelve hours in scoring 172. A phenomenal achievement of concentration and skill, he was kept in check by Fletcher's shrewd field placement but did pounce on any half-volleys. And he ensured there was no panic when Lever took four wickets after coaxing considerable swing out of the second new ball.

If the third Test in Delhi – played after India had scored a last-over victory in the second one-day international at Jullundur – was to remain in any Englishman's memory it was that of the insatiable Boycott. Having put on 132 with Gooch after Fletcher had won the toss, he went on to equal an English record held by Wally Hammond and Colin Cowdrey by scoring his twenty-second Test century. En route, when reaching 82 shortly before stumps on the first day, he had also become the highest scorer in Test history, overtaking the 8,032 runs of Garry Sobers. That he should achieve these landmarks during the kind of innings that had become his trademark – 105 scored off 278 balls in 440 minutes – was appropriate and inevitable.

Yet, this being Boycott, his achievement was also stained by controversy. Since his return to the England team in 1977 after his self-imposed three-year exile, his value to the fragile batting order had never been greater. The fact that for the previous two years England had seen nothing but West Indian and Australian fast bowlers had further emphasised the importance of his renowned qualities of technique, discipline and infinite patience. Scoring runs at what others considered a healthy rate had never seemed so unimportant.

However, against the less intimidating Indian bowlers on flat pitches – and with victory needed to salvage the series – Fletcher had made it clear in his eve-of-match press conference that it was necessary for England to take a more positive approach. He wanted to score eighty runs per session and Boycott and Tavaré, he said, had been made aware of that requirement.

While Boycott's precise, some would say laboured, approach appeared to be a direct contradiction to team orders, Tavaré achieved a maiden Test hundred by batting with much more urgency than usual. He did take half an hour to get off the mark but his 149 off 303 balls included some adventurous cover drives and clever leg-side play and was, by his standards, almost Bothamesque. Then Botham showed exactly how he did it himself by smashing a half-century off what was then a Test-record 26 balls. His innings of 66 included five massive sixes.

So, far from accepting plaudits for his landmarks, Boycott found himself having to defend his scoring rate, arguing that he had never been given instructions to maintain a specific tempo, despite what had been reported in the English newspapers. According to Boycott, the captain told him he had been misquoted, only for a tape recording to prove otherwise. Fletcher ended up having to apologise publicly to his senior batsman and admit that those orders had not been delivered. 'Subba Row seemed to think it was quite out of the question for an England captain to admit to a mistake, much less a lie,' said Boycott, who believed 'my reputation was to be swilled down the drain again' and described his subsequent relationship with skipper and manager as 'distinctly distant'.

England's total of 476 for 9 in a touch under 157 overs represented a strike rate that would be perfectly acceptable even in the more attack-minded 21st century. The fact that India bowled their overs so slowly that it took well into the third day to get there emphasised the impossible position England were in as they tried to chase the series. Gundappa Viswanath's century and a 93 by Ravi Shastri of which Boycott would have approved ensured there was no follow-on and therefore no chance of a result.

The closest England came to achieving a series-levelling win was at Calcutta, where the fourth Test heralded in the New Year in front of five capacity crowds of almost 80,000. It would also mark a suitably contentious end to Boycott's Test career.

England were all out for 248 around lunchtime on day two, Kapil Dev taking six wickets with his away swing. Botham and Fletcher had shared the most productive partnership, 93 for the fifth wicket. Dilip Vengsarkar, resolutely, and Kapil Dev, brutally yet briefly, each threatened to guide India to a position of strength but England set out on their second innings with a lead of forty.

Gooch (63) gave them early impetus and Fletcher showed his renowned expertise against the slow bowlers with an inventive unbeaten 60. It allowed him to declare with six hours remaining in the match and India needing 306 to win, a target unlikely to be approached on such a slow pitch. Once smog had cost the first hour of the final day, England's task of taking ten wickets was similarly unattainable.

Fletcher had witnessed similar conditions early on the fourth day, but with his team pushing towards a declaration he'd declined to accept the umpires' offer of bad light. In timing the closure of England's innings he had not factored in the possibility of India choosing the alternate option if offered the same choice, as they were almost as soon as play began. Having already attracted local criticism with his bat-swiping earlier in the series, Fletcher now made a gesture of protest by sitting on the square with four other players while the batsmen retreated to the pavilion. Once play resumed, the imperturbable Gavaskar ensured that England's one half-chance of getting back into the series had gone.

As, it would soon transpire, was Boycott.

Having never previously toured India – because of nerves over his health following a childhood accident that cost him his spleen – Boycott had finished the third Test with a temperature and the first hint of stomach problems. Fit enough to play at Calcutta, he complained of lacking in energy after being out cheaply for the second time in the match on the third day. When India batted a second time, John Lever substituted for him in the field, but instead of spending the final day in his hotel sickbed, Boycott went to the ground in search of someone to accompany him to the Tollyganj Golf Club. Allott and Cook declined but he went and played fourteen holes nevertheless.

Allott recalled, 'I was doing twelfth man duties at the time. He had all sorts of issues did Geoffrey and I'm not sure what they all were. John Lever was on the field as substitute and Boycott came up and said, "I am going to have a few holes of golf. Are you coming with me?" I said, "I can't. I am next on, aren't I?" I thought, "If you are fit enough to play golf then you should be on the field supporting the boys."'

Boycott, frustrated that he had not been allowed to pay his own way to Delhi to see a British doctor, would insist that his game had been barely more than a long walk; a response to Bernard Thomas telling him to get some fresh air. He would admit later that he could 'appreciate what a bad impression I must have given'.

He had never sought permission for his excursion and was duly hauled before Subba Row, Fletcher and Willis to explain, apologise and be told of the disappointment of the captain, who said he 'could scarcely believe' what had happened. Boycott suggested that if that was everyone's response he should leave the tour, handing over a note expressing that conclusion. He would also write a note of apology to his team-mates, which he was said to have pinned to the dressing-room table with a corkscrew. According to John Emburey, those colleagues 'were not best pleased, to put it mildly' by Boycott's golf course excursion. Asked if the squad had been pleased to see the back of Boycott, Willis asserted, 'Very much so. He certainly didn't cover himself with glory on that tour. The difficult decision to part company was the right one.'

The next morning, Fletcher accompanied Subba Row to Boycott's room to accept his resignation, only to find the batsman ready to change his mind. According to Fletcher, 'We decided it would be better for him, and for us, if he went home.' The skipper felt that Boycott's apparent reluctance to contribute to the tour off the field meant he should never tour with England again. Fletcher had been unconcerned about Boycott's reluctance to go out drinking with the lads but said he could be 'uncooperative' and an 'embarrassment' at official functions.

For his part, Boycott had not fully considered the difficult conditions he would face outside of the major cities with their luxury accommodation, citing as an example the hotel in Jammu where fan heaters were needed to dry out damp beds. A feeling of sickness had become his everyday condition, although he was honest enough to acknowledge that such symptoms could have been partly psychological.

So swiftly executed was Boycott's departure that Fletcher and Willis were the only players who knew of it in advance. 'Continuing poor health,' was the diplomatic – and at least partially truthful – explanation given by Subba Row, preventing Boycott being seen to have been sent home in disgrace.

However, by the time he landed at Heathrow, the real story had emerged – instantly denied by Boycott, who told waiting reporters, 'I have had several bouts of sickness and have not eaten for the past five days.' And while TCCB secretary Donald Carr supported that story, Subba Row, questioned about Boycott's game of golf, hinted at a different truth when he said, 'It was just one factor that indicated that he was not seeing things straight.'

Boycott, who noted wryly that he was 'unfortunate to be judged by people who had never made a mistake in their lives', was at home admitting to his error of judgement while his erstwhile team-mates were heading into a fifth Test that featured another Indian batting marathon. Some of them might have wished they were back in England with him as the tedium of the tour continued. 'Several players came home disillusioned with Test cricket,' Fletcher confessed. 'By the end I could sense most of them had taken enough of the frustrations.'

Fletcher became only the third captain in fifty years of Test cricket in India to insert the opposition, but after a genuinely hostile, yet luckless, opening spell by Willis, Viswanath patiently compiled the highest score by one of his countrymen in a Test. His 222 bettered by one Gavaskar's 1979 effort at The Oval and included only one obvious chance among his usual array of wristy drives and steers. Vengsarkar made 71 before ducking into a Willis bouncer and his replacement Yashpal Sharma, on his way to 140, helped advance the three-handed third-wicket partnership to 415, another Indian record. Several observers noted drolly that in between the fall of the second and third wickets – separated by more than ten hours' playing time – the country's population had risen by 75,000.

Gooch responded magnificently, punishing Kapil Dev off front and back foot on his way to a thrilling 127 in 225 minutes, an innings out of step with the pace of the match. Early on he drove Kapil for three successive fours and his century was greeted generously by the home crowd. Meanwhile, Tavaré, opening in place of Boycott and free of the need to score at greater than pedestrian pace, took five and a half hours over his 35.

Gooch was similarly emphatic in his batting in the rain-hit final Test at Kanpur where he rattled up a fifty off 55 balls after Fletcher won his fifth toss in a row. Botham, who had just slammed a breathtaking 48-ball hundred against Central Zone at Indore, played his most dominant innings of the series, mixing aggression with common sense on his way to 142. As if rising to a personal challenge from one great all-rounder to another, Kapil Dev hit his way cleanly and imaginatively to a century off 83 balls to enliven the closing stages of a series few were sad to see end.

Having taken only sixty-five of the 120 Indian wickets available in six games, Fletcher admitted that England had been wrong to pick only one spinner in half the matches. Perhaps the most encouraging aspect of England's bowling was that Willis ended the tour strongly and was clearly still their best fast bowler. His ability to hold down a place in the team was important if, as seemed possible, Fletcher's appointment as captain was to be only for this tour.

More than anything, the averages bore out what was known already: Botham's inestimable value to the team. He led the batting averages at fifty-five and took most wickets with seventeen, a performance mirrored closely by his rival Kapil Dev (fifty-three batting average, twenty-two wickets). Meanwhile, Gooch had taken another step toward world-class with an average of 54.11 and England could now look forward to him giving their innings momentum from the first ball for many years to come. Or so they thought.

A frustrating tour ended with a somewhat more enjoyable visit to Sri Lanka for that country's inaugural Test match, in which England ensured they returned from their travels with a success to their name by taking seven wickets for eight runs to seal victory.

Having split the one-day series after two close matches, England marked the historic Test by giving a first cap to Cook, who had been all but forgotten since his role in the pre-tour furore. Allott, whose lack of meaningful action had allowed him to sow the seeds of a broadcasting career by appearing on _Test Match Special_ , played instead of Dilley and was unlucky to go wicketless. Underwood's first five-wicket haul of his post-Packer Test career saw the home team dismissed for 218. An England first-innings lead of only five owed a lot to Gower's composed 89 after the home fielders had joyously celebrated the capture of early wickets.

At 167 for 3 in their second innings, Sri Lanka's lead promised to develop into one of potentially match-winning proportions. Emburey's decision to bowl round the wicket nipped history in the bud, however, as his flight and turn ripped out five batsmen for the personal cost of five runs. A target of 171 still looked challenging after an early lbw decision against Cook, but Tavaré's doggedness was on this occasion seen in its best light as he scored 85 to steer England home by seven wickets.

### **Should I Stay or Should I Go**

Tours of India in the early 1980s presented visiting cricketers with far fewer entertainment options than the 21st century; so few, in fact, that anyone overhearing England's players planning a game of chess would barely have raised an eyebrow. Little did anyone suspect that such arrangements were merely a front for clandestine discussions about an unauthorised tour.

At the end of February it would emerge that five of the winter party – Gooch, who reluctantly accepted the role of captain, Boycott, Emburey, Lever and Underwood – were to play for an unofficial England team in South Africa. Sponsored by South African Breweries, the tour would pay the thirteen players a reported £40,000 each and feature three four-day 'Tests' and a series of one-day games. The other players were former Test men Dennis Amiss, Mike Hendrick, Alan Knott, Wayne Larkins, Chris Old and Peter Willey, plus the uncapped Les Taylor, with Bob Woolmer, Warwickshire keeper Geoff Humpage and Yorkshire seamer Arnold Sidebottom added later.

South African businessman Peter Cooke had first raised the possibility of such a series late in 1980. Knott recalled having been asked to sign a letter of intent – although his lawyers told him there was no point – and believed that the idea had been to stage the tour before the Indian series. Emburey remembered activity dying down for several months in the wake of England's banishment from Guyana before surfacing again during the summer of 1981.

Even Mike Brearley recalled being approached in the autumn about captaining a near-Test strength England team in South Africa, an invitation he declined because he supported the country's isolation from world sport.

It was Knott, at home during the English winter, who did much of the liaising with those in India, telling people he was Emburey's 'uncle' when he called and leaving strange messages about chess moves. Knott duly reported that a month-long tour was set to go ahead, with wives welcome, an important factor for the more senior players and something that had earlier encouraged him to sign for World Series Cricket. 'I had a bit of a fight about wives on England tours and it just wasn't getting any easier,' he said. 'Wives had to come out at certain times, sometimes at the end of the tour, and we had to pay for them ourselves. If you went against that you worried that they would leave you out.'

The senior players discussed the proposal under the guise of those chess matches and, according to Emburey, it was the only time Boycott showed any degree of interest in his colleagues. He appeared more excited over the plans than he was about the dull Test series in progress. He was hardly alone in that regard. Willis stated that 'some of the fringe players made their mind up that the South African Breweries offer was an attractive option after suffering through that tour, which was purgatory from a cricketing point of view'.

Skipper Fletcher said he was 'kept in the dark', while Jack Richards recalled, 'Those players were very discreet and kept themselves to themselves anyway. There was little communication with the outside world – no telephones, television or external mail – so it was easy to keep the lid on it.'

The players were fully aware of what was at stake, having received a warning from the TCCB in August 1981 about the threat to Test careers if anyone had cricketing contact with South Africa. The belief of many in those meetings, however, was that if enough of them signed up, the TCCB would not punish them. Knott has a theory that 'they did not particularly want to stop it – indeed they welcomed the chance to test the reaction to sides from England playing in South Africa'.

Others pondered what financial compensation they should demand from the organisers to protect them from loss of earnings resulting from an England ban. In the end, however, some of the biggest names were missing from the team sheet, leading to Holiday Inn withdrawing its original sponsorship and being replaced by South African Breweries.

Gower, who admitted that 'as a young sportsman you do have an insulated view of the world', was counselled by agent Jon Holmes not to go. 'A lot of people were tempted to go and others were well advised not to,' he said. 'I had everything in front of me as an England player and was advised it would be unwise and potentially damaging to go. The gist of it for those that went was, "How can they touch us? We are out of contract." In those days when you finished the tour that was the end of the tour contract and your county contract started when you went back to them, so in between you were theoretically a free agent. That is what they hoped and believed. But there were ramifications you couldn't understand and had to guess at.'

Willis also pulled out, while Geoff Cook was another withdrawal because of his fears about the impact on his captaincy and benefit season at Northamptonshire. He also felt obliged to deny publicly that he'd been aware of the intentions of Willey and Larkins, which was said to have upset his county colleagues.

Gooch sent the organisers a telex during the final Indian Test declining their invitation, before sending another telling them to 'count me in' in return for a one-month salary that would take him years to earn in county cricket. 'I was perfectly within my rights to go,' he would argue, referring to the 'best interests of myself and my family', even though his father had disagreed strongly with his decision.

Botham cited great friend and Somerset team-mate Viv Richards as his reason for turning down his offer, saying 'I could never look him in the eye again.' Yet Boycott described such comments as 'unnecessary and puke-making' and even the genial Gower would later say that Botham's words had been spoken 'somewhat disingenuously'. A throwaway comment by Botham that they could not afford him was just as close to the truth. He had taken into account potential loss of earnings from major sponsors such as Nike and Shredded Wheat and decided it was not worth it. Four years later, journalist Jack Bannister would reveal that South African cricket chief Dr Ali Bacher had shown him a signed letter of intent from Botham, written on Hilton Hotel, Trinidad, notepaper and dated February 1981, in which he 'agrees in principle to the proposed tour of South Africa'.

Meanwhile, once the players had left for South Africa, Fletcher was called with an offer of £45,000 to join. After considering it for twenty-four hours, he declined, having high hopes of retaining the England captaincy for the forthcoming summer.

As someone who believed he might never play for England again, Boycott had an easier decision. Les Taylor, strangely, said he went because he thought his background as a miner would count against him in England selection. Had he not heard of Harold Larwood?

Jack Richards, who watched his fellow-tourists head to South Africa, admitted, 'For sure I would have considered it. You are there as a professional and to earn money, as much as possible. The wages in those days were not the greatest and I was quite sober in thinking you have to get what you can when you can. I can remember thinking, "You are only here once, it doesn't matter what you play for if you can secure a future." That is what I felt as a young player thinking I had not got a fair crack of the whip on an England tour.'

While SANROC immediately urged the TCCB to ban the players from first-class cricket, the leading South African players – starved of high-level representative cricket and now promised official Springbok 'caps' – welcomed developments. Joe Pamensky, president of the South African Cricket Union, said, 'We applaud the stand of these English players who have agreed to play.'

The TCCB declared itself 'very distressed and extremely disappointed' and expressed concerns that South Africa would attract other unofficial teams. They also knew that failure to follow through on their threat to ban players who went on the tour might result in the West Indies and the Asian nations refusing to play against them.

Sports minister Neil Macfarlane said he would have liked to have spoken to the rebel players 'to remind them of the possible consequences of their actions'. Meanwhile, Margaret Thatcher said she was 'dismayed and concerned', yet conceded when questioned in the House of Commons, 'Our powers are limited to persuasion. In the end, the decision is up to each of the persons concerned because they are in a free country.' She had been forced to accept the same two years earlier when the British team had gone to the Moscow Olympics in spite of her opposition. Labour MP and future government minister Jack Straw accused Mrs Thatcher of a 'mealy-mouthed, half-hearted, fence-sitting' response. Yet the tour was beyond the realm of political intervention. Only the visit of an official England team would have been seen by the international community as a breach of the Gleneagles Agreement – a pact that was, in any case, an unsigned, informal arrangement between countries rather than a legally binding contract.

It is interesting to compare the contrasting attitudes from within and outside the sport to those that greeted Kerry Packer's activities five years earlier. While the cricketing world in general saw Packer's World Series Cricket as the work of the devil and its players as having betrayed the established game, the wider public saw a group of professionals exercising their right to operate for an alternative employer, in the manner of the world beyond sport.

Reaction to the rebel tour was more confused. The news pages carried widespread condemnation of sportsmen who were apparently self-interested and blinkered to the greater political and social issues at stake. The perspective offered by Emburey was exactly the kind of view that exasperated so many. 'As a non-political animal, I had no special feelings on the morality of the situation one way or another,' he said five years later, defending 'the right of a professional cricketer to be able to earn his living in the best way he can'.

Some of the cricket media, meanwhile, supported Emburey's defence of players' rights. Quite how some of those same people reconciled that with their earlier stance against the Packer players was unclear. 'They are in no way rebels,' said BBC Radio's Brian Johnston in a not untypical comment. 'They are merely following their profession.' In _The Times_ , John Woodcock, fiercely anti-Packer, said the players had done nothing 'that as citizens of a free country they are not perfectly entitled to do'.

Lancashire batsman Graeme Fowler, who would find his route to the England team eased by the fall-out from the tour, recalls fellow professionals being understanding of the rebels' position. 'Nobody went for a political idea, they went for the money,' he said. 'Nobody blamed them. We were just wondering what would happen and whether they would be banned.'

There was considerable sympathy, too, with the plight of the South African cricket authorities, whose appetite for reform within their sport certainly outstripped that of the government's desire to change the apartheid laws. Woodcock wrote in his _Wisden_ editor's notes, 'Having had their submission for re-entry into the Test fold persistently rejected, despite meeting in every detail the original conditions for this to happen, South Africa have run out of patience.' Players echoed similar sentiments, referring to the needs of the cricket community without discussing the wider benefit that continued sporting isolation could potentially bring to the sector of the population that needed it most.

On the other side of the divide, former England spinner Jim Laker described the players' actions as 'diabolical and motivated by greed', while David Frith pointed out, 'Even to the most obtuse cricketer's mind it should be clear that a fragile world sports structure can only be weakened by the tour.' An editorial in _The Guardian_ stated, 'Some sportsmen are not very adept at political complexities. That is one small excuse for the decision... But it is just about the only excuse available.'

Willey responded by insisting, 'I've got nothing on my conscience. I am just here to play cricket.' An unnamed player asked why sportsmen should be expected to execute their own sanctions – at their own cost – while the government, according to figures in the _Daily Star_ , sent £1bn of goods to South Africa every year and imported £756m, making it one of the UK's most important trading partners.

Emburey supports Willis's theory in saying that his own decision had been made on the back of the most unsatisfactory of tours. 'The wickets in India were as flat as anything and you were never going to get a result,' he complained. 'The over rates were poor, the umpiring was very biased towards the home side and it was difficult for me to get wickets because batsmen could kick the ball away and you were never going to get an lbw. You became disillusioned with Test cricket so when the opportunity came to go to South Africa I took it. It was in between a tour finishing and the season starting so we felt we weren't treading on anyone's toes. But we didn't realise what to expect. When we got presented to the media in Johannesburg we realised what a furore we had caused.' The result was a naïve attempt at political awareness in the team's statement that they did not support apartheid and were only in the country to play cricket.

One week into the tour, the TCCB sent the rebels a message to 'make you aware of the very strong reaction in England and other countries'. The threat to the summer's English tours by India and Pakistan were highlighted, 'seriously affecting county finances and the possible future livelihood of fellow cricketers.' The letter concluded, 'If it is practicable for you to do so, we urge you to reconsider your position.' According to Pamensky, TCCB chairman George Mann also suggested support for South Africa's return to world cricket if the tour was cancelled.

Given the assurances to the Indian authorities a few months earlier, it was particularly embarrassing for the TCCB that five members of the recent touring squad had turned renegade. By 9 March, with none of the involved parties inclined to back down and the Indian board stating that they would not play against any of the South African tourists, the TCCB were left with no option but to announce a three-year Test ban for the rebels.

Gooch called the news being 'as if a thunderbolt or meteor had exploded from the radio'. Asked if advanced warning of such a lengthy ban would have affected his decision to enrol for the rebel tour, Emburey conceded, 'I think it possibly would have made a difference.' And Larkins admitted, 'I knew I had to expect something. After all, we had been a bit naughty. The way we did it was a bit underhand. But when they announced the ban it was a shaker. I thought we'd get three months.'

_Wisden_ recorded that the bans were greeted by the 'consternation not only of the players concerned but also of the average cricket follower' and declared that the TCCB's actions 'smacked more of expediency than strength'. It was hard to see, however, what other options were open to them if they were to prevent a seismic rift in the world game.

## **6
DON'T YOU WANT ME**

'I put the faults of English cricket and our demise through the 1980s internationally purely down to the selectors' – John Emburey

IN the late 2000s, the England and Wales Cricket Board introduced its first series of national testing sessions for the country's best sixteen-year-old cricketers. According to Simon Timson, who at the time was head of development for the ECB and has since gone on to mastermind Britain's Olympic planning, the theory was that the earlier you start finding out if players have the right stuff for international cricket – or identifying what they lack – the better. It was the logical next step in a system that, since the turn of the millennium, had seen fewer and fewer players arrive in a senior England dressing room without first having been guided through age-group and developmental teams, their every move on and off the field scrutinised for signs of temperament and technique.

Once the modern player is in the fold, a central contract beckons, bringing – as well as the money – further control of all aspects of that player's career. Along with it has come a degree of selectorial consistency that has even led to accusations of a closed shop that makes it more difficult to get out of the England team than to break in. The shock over the choice of non-contracted debutants Chris Woakes and Simon Kerrigan in the final summer Ashes Test of 2013 served to highlight how predictable the announcement of the Test team had become.

For older observers there was a comforting, nostalgic feel to two newcomers being chucked in apparently at random; a reminder of days when selection appeared to depend on hunches, whims, personal prejudice and a brief burst of form – often one eye-catching innings or spell of bowling.

Like the 1980s, in fact.

It was Peter May, a disciplined, elegant batsman who captained England and Surrey successfully as an amateur and scored thirteen Test centuries, who became the face of team selection throughout the decade following a reshuffle of the panel in the spring of 1982. Taking over from chairman Alec Bedser, who remained on the committee, May was joined by Norman Gifford and Alan Smith, who replaced Brian Close and Charlie Elliott.

May's accession would do little to alter the perception that the England team was frequently the product of muddled minds. 'He was a lovely man,' said David Gower, one of six captains to play under May. 'He was old style and you could see the gentleman in the man. He had always been a very strong captain of Surrey and led a good team of hard-bitten pros. He led them with authority but by the time he became chairman of selectors he seemed a bit more diffident. He was always polite and controlled but, if need be, had firm opinions. I had huge respect for him. But it is always apparent you have got a generation thing whatever you do. Unless you are an absolute student of the game things move on. It's not a bad thing to have coaches, managers and selectors not too far removed from the current generation. It is easier to have greater empathy.'

May's first captain, Bob Willis, was generous in his assessment. 'I got on with Peter very well,' he insisted. 'We were always very straightforward and honest with one another and I largely got my way if it came down to the choice of eleventh man on the morning of the match. He was very much an establishment character and was keen we behaved in the right way, which I hope we did doing my tenure as captain. He was old school and I enjoyed working with him.'

The fact that May had taken the job with the warning that business commitments would limit the amount of time he could devote to it hardly inspired confidence, however. Impatience and short memories would be characteristics attributed to May's selection panel far more often than foresight and forgiveness. Of the fifty-eight players awarded a first Test cap during the decade, almost a quarter of them, thirteen, played no more than two matches while twenty-three never made it beyond four appearances.

All-rounder Ian Greig, discarded after two matches during May's first summer in charge, said, 'That was the frustrating thing. First of all they said, "We think you are good enough, we are giving you a chance," and two matches later they say, "Sorry, you are not good enough; we are moving on to the next person."'

Willis added, 'Until the more professional era if you had two bad Tests as a batsman or one bad Test as a bowler you were left out. That was the way of the world. Even during the successful 1981 Ashes campaign the team changed dramatically, even when we won matches.'

John Emburey would be given a brief insight into the selection process after being appointed captain one game into the 1988 home series against the West Indies. 'Really, there was not much you could change after the first Test, which we drew, because people had not done a huge amount wrong,' he believed. 'But we went through the bloody _Daily Telegraph_ averages, which Peter May had in front of him. It was purely done on the averages in a newspaper. I remember looking at Micky Stewart as if to say, "Is this what happens every time?" It was a shambles.' The two changes made for that particular game were merely the start of a dizzying array of modifications to the side throughout that summer.

'If you were in a bit of form, then there was a chance you'd get a game,' said seam bowler Richard Ellison, who played eleven Tests in the middle of the decade. 'There was no pathway or talent identification system. There were so many organisations – National Association of Young Cricketers, Young Cricketers' Association, England Schools, MCC Schools, Young England – that you didn't know which was the most important. So generally speaking you became recognised by performing at county level as opposed to being identified young.'

One England regular during the 1980s who did seem to have been earmarked early for bigger things was wicketkeeper Paul Downton, chosen for the 1977-78 tour of Pakistan and New Zealand after a handful of games for Kent. 'I had made headlines on my debut when my first victim was Alan Butcher stumped down the leg side off Asif Iqbal,' he recalled. 'John Murray, who was a selector at the time, was there. I was playing a second eleven match when I got a call from Donald Carr, asking would I be able to come on the tour. It was completely out of the blue.'

It turned out not to be the start of a career path carefully plotted by the England team management. Having returned from the tour with a one-day international debut behind him, Downton heard nothing from England for three seasons. 'They went back to Roger Tolchard as back-up wicketkeeper for the next tour, which was a more pragmatic choice,' he said with a shrug. Downton would need to leave Kent and Alan Knott behind in a move to Middlesex in 1980 before the selectors would pay him any further attention.

Instead, they stuck to their policy of instinct and impulse. Tim Curtis remembered being picked to face the West Indies on the strength of innings of 120 and 97 in successive NatWest Trophy and Sunday League games. 'I got a couple of big scores in limited-overs cricket and I was picked for a Test match. I was in the people's minds as someone in good form but the idea of scoring runs in one form of cricket and being picked for another would be questioned these days. People should be picked because you know about their lasting qualities.'

Bill Athey, whose twenty-three-Test career spanned eight years, added, 'It was just when the written press started mentioning your name that you had any idea that you might be picked. Nowadays you would be in development squads and goodness knows what.'

Greig believes his debut owed something to that positive publicity. 'There was an awful lot of press speculation and the day-to-day reporting should never be underestimated during those times,' he argued. 'I had a very good season in 1981 and continued that form into '82. I was getting the right sort of press – from the good cricket correspondents.'

If, like opening batsman Graeme Fowler, you rarely read the newspapers, there could be so little inkling of impending selection that you didn't believe it when it happened. 'I hadn't a clue,' he said of his call-up in 1982. 'I was off the pitch at Old Trafford and the dressing-room attendant, who was a great old fellow and liked a laugh and a practical joke, said, "Bob Willis is on the phone for you." I said doubtfully, "Oh yes," and when I picked up the phone this voice said it was Bob. I still didn't know if it was and he said, "You are playing next week." I walked back into the dressing room and said, "I have been picked for England," and the lads were jumping up and down. They must have guessed that I was closer than I did.

'In my time there were people like Willis, Gower and Botham who knew they would play every game, but the rest of us had no idea from one match to the next. We didn't have an England manager or coach, just three or four selectors we never spoke to.'

Spin bowler Nick Cook recalled seeing a selector at a county game thumbing through the averages in the _Playfair Cricket Annual_ , while Rob Bailey was another who had first-hand experience of the capricious nature of the committee. 'In those days nobody really knew where they stood,' said the former Northamptonshire batsman, who was picked for his first Test in 1988, discarded after one game, chosen for that winter's tour – which ended up being cancelled – and ignored again the following summer. 'There were an awful lot of people around who thought they might get a chance because they used so many players.'

The modern policy of early identification and investment in development appeared to pay dividends as England spent the first decade of the new millennium scaling heights that three decades earlier appeared unattainable. It can't be insignificant that four England players during the centrally-contracted 2000s, Andrew Strauss, Alastair Cook, Matthew Prior and Jonathan Trott, scored centuries on Test debut. Not one player achieved that in the 1980s; no one in between Frank Hayes in 1973 and Graham Thorpe in 1993.

If it was the West Indies who made life toughest for England's players during the decade, then the selectors naturally came under closest scrutiny in the wake of those series. In the winter following the 5-0 home series defeat in 1984, the TCCB announced a nine-man inquiry into the problems facing the national team. Seconded on to the panel were TCCB chairman Charlie Palmer, selectors May and Bedser, eighty-two-year-old Gubby Allen, Kent manager Brian Luckhurst, Glamorgan coach Tom Cartwright, National Cricket Association director of coaching Keith Andrew, Northamptonshire captain and Professional Cricketers' Association chairman Geoff Cook and former Hampshire captain Nick Pocock. The final two were the only ones who had played first-class cricket in the previous twelve months. May appeared concerned chiefly that the inquiry should get him off the hook. 'I am not happy that there has been the need for this working party,' he commented, 'but hope it can help clarify the problems we the selectors face.'

May would sound a further note of exasperation in May 1986, with another 5-0 humiliation at the hands of the West Indies recently in the books. He as good as admitted that he faced an impossible task when he said, 'If anyone can suggest someone else whom we should be picking I will be only too pleased to watch him. We do our best and think very hard about who plays in the team but once the match starts we can't do anything about it.'

Clearly, picking a side to effectively combat one of the greatest teams in the history of the sport was no easy task, but the selectors did little to help themselves when, as in 1988, they made as many as seven changes between matches. With the temptation existing to replace any player who had a bad game or two with whichever county performer was enjoying a hot streak, it is no surprise that England players welcomed the more secure environment of a winter away from home.

'It was probably the easier route into the England team to be selected for a tour,' Tim Robinson suggested. 'You had a bit of time to get settled in and get used to a different, more intense environment than county cricket. It was a chance to feel part of a squad without the turnaround of players you had at home.'

Emburey continued, 'Nowadays, with central contracts, you really have to perform badly over a few games to be left out. You only had to have one bad game back then and you were gone. Therefore there was no security, you were always looking over your shoulder and you had no confidence – unless you were an Ian Botham. What you needed was some encouragement and stability. You didn't get that from the selectors.

'What amazed me was at the team meeting the chairman of selectors would stand up and say, "We have got the best eleven players in the country here. We have got players who can win the Test. Go out and do your best." And then we would lose three players for the next game and he would give exactly the same speech. Whoever plays in the first Test, if they are supposed to be your best players, then you should play the bulk of those players throughout the series. It was a joke.'

Being picked for the England team could often be just the start of a period of confusion and disappointment. Midway through the summer of 1982, the new selection panel opted to move Derek Randall back up to the top of the order, having seen him mark his return to the side in the number six slot with a century in the first Test against India. 'I was surprised to find myself opening the batting,' he admitted. 'The last such experiment had been a complete flop and I could not see that my game had changed sufficiently since then to indicate I might now be an ideal opener.' Gutsy to his core, Randall responded with an ugly yet invaluable century against Pakistan. Within two games he found himself batting at number seven, run out in the first innings and dismissed for a second-ball duck in the second. 'I ended the season feeling slightly confused and more than a little frustrated,' he said.

Perhaps it was intended as a compliment, but the selectors appeared to view Randall throughout his career as someone without a fixed place in the order. Even after he scored his first, and most famous, England century batting at number three in the Centenary Test in Melbourne, their response was to drop him down a place for the next game. His seven Test centuries ended up being scored in five different batting positions, ranging from one to seven. 'I feel I would have been a more valuable and consistent player if I had regularly been given the same position in the order,' he ventured.

Of course, worse than being moved to an unfavoured position was being dropped, a procedure that came unaccompanied by ceremony or compassion. 'You were picked and dropped the same way,' said Roland Butcher. 'There was never any contact to explain, you were either in or out. You would turn on the TV or something to find out. It was not the best way to do things. There was no thought that cricketers are human beings and have feelings.'

Willis would try to call those being discarded to give them the news, but Vic Marks recalled that he always received selection information against the backdrop of typewriters clacking in a newsroom somewhere, while Athey remembered discovering he had been left out of the 1980-81 tour via a journalist looking for a reaction to his omission. Derek Pringle found out Ellison had been preferred to him for a Test when he arrived for a Sunday League game and 'all the Kent supporters were jeering at me and flicking Vs'.

Downton discovered he had been dropped after the first Test of 1981 when county colleagues Emburey and Mike Gatting found their official invites waiting for them in the Middlesex dressing room, but nothing for him. Fowler added, 'I used to hear it on the tannoy or get a phone call from a writer for the _Manchester Evening News_ saying "unlucky" or "well done". That can't be right. It was no way to treat anybody in any walk of life.'

During 1982, Nottinghamshire off-spinner Eddie Hemmings, aged thirty-three, became the third-oldest England new boy since the war when he was chosen to face Pakistan. Having made him wait so long for a first game, the selectors wasted little time in discarding him. After a decent performance on debut he was dropped after a heavy defeat in the next match. 'The experience taught me never to take selection for granted,' he said.

County colleague Chris Broad, who made his debut in 1984, told the BBC, 'I felt it wasn't a team. I remember the chairman of selectors saying to me, "Good luck, Chris, you have two matches to show us what you can do." That doesn't really inspire you to go out and feel part of the team. You had to fight for yourself to stay in the team. The team ethic only came in in the late '90s.'

As Fowler put it, 'You would say goodbye to someone at the end of one Test and not know if you would see them in the next one,' while Pringle added, 'I remember John Lever being picked in '86 under Gatt, who said, "See you at Edgbaston." John said to me, "That means I am in, doesn't it?" – and he wasn't.'

Phil DeFreitas felt there was no concession to the human condition when it came to assessing and managing Test players. 'Whether you were a batsman or a bowler you were expected to be at your very best at all times,' he said. 'That is impossible, no matter how good you are. You were maybe allowed one or two failures back then before being dropped.'

As someone who earned a reputation of being 'difficult', DeFreitas felt that any time he voiced an opinion on the England set-up it was interpreted as a sign that he did not care to be part of it. Instead, he said, it was 'simply my way of dealing with the poor way I thought I was being treated'. He wrote, 'Throughout my ten years as an England player nobody ever made the effort to get to know me or find out what made me tick – if they had done, they might have handled dropping me as often as they did slightly differently.'

Fowler's experience of being discarded was one of evasiveness by the selectors. 'After I got dropped [in 1985] I bumped into Phil Sharpe later in the season and he said, "Bad luck, Foxy. I wanted you to play." A bit later I ran into Alec Bedser and he said the same thing. I bumped into Peter May at the end of the season and he said, "I wanted you to play." I said to him, "I've seen three of you now who've said you wanted me to play, but I still got dropped, so someone is lying. Just be honest about it."'

There are echoes of Fowler's final remark in the comments of wicketkeeper Jack Richards, who was eventually given his Test debut five years after his unhappy tour of India. He admitted, 'I had a great mistrust in English cricket management and selection. They would not give anybody a chance to identify what certain players needed to perform well. I had a very hard tour [in Australia in 1986-87] and played in every game for a long time. Suddenly, it was, "By the way, you are not playing now." That was it. Even after being successful you hadn't earned the right to be treated like a normal person. You were still kicked into the gutter, without any discussion.'

Those on the fringes of the team were rarely considered important enough to be offered an indication of how close they were to selection and what factors could possibly make a difference. Excluded from the soon-to-be-cancelled Indian tour of 1988-89, Leicestershire's Jonathan Agnew, who'd last played a Test three years earlier, said, 'I would just like someone to tell me what I have done wrong. At the start of the season the selectors said they would be picking on form. Well, I have taken ninety-three wickets this summer to go with the 101 last year and if that's not good form I don't know what is.'

No sport in recent years has had its unforgiving core more brutally exposed than cricket, with mental health issues and stress-related problems spoken about publicly in a way that would have been unthinkable in the 1980s. When the pressures of the sport, exacerbated by an unsympathetic and uninformed hierarchy of selectors and management, bore down upon its participants there was nowhere to turn but in on themselves.

'If I mentioned, when I was playing, that I wanted to see a sports psychologist, the first question would have been, "What's that?" The second one would be, "What's wrong with you?" Fowler told _New Statesman_. According to the opening batsman, who was diagnosed with depression in 2004, 'I believed that my reservoirs of mental energy were depleted by the end of the season. I never experienced depression as I know it now as a player, but looking back there could have been tiny little episodes. I had a mechanism for dealing with them. Cricket is a frustrating game. You can be playing well, but then things start going wrong and you start worrying about your place in the team and then your contract being under threat. Cricket buggers up your mind.'

Richards continued, 'Cricket has given me a lot of opportunities, but on the other hand it takes a lot from you, an awful lot. Sometimes people don't understand quite how much it takes. People don't look at cricket in the same way as a football or rugby team or a tennis player. You can't say a cricketer has exerted himself physically more than any other top player but I am convinced that in cricket mentally you are never really a sure-fire winner. Whatever your performance you always think you can do a bit better. When you have got forty, you think you should have got fifty; if you get to sixty, you should have got a hundred. You always carry that negativity with you even when you have done well.

'I suppose that was never really addressed by people talking to each other when I played. I can never remember people exchanging their thoughts or feelings in the right way. In those days you had to find your different ways of working around it. Some people would be extravagant in the way they did things or be an introvert, which could be construed as "he's a miserable so-and-so; he is not a team man". That was far from the truth. You just had your own thoughts.'

The TCCB's apparent lack of concern over the players' well-being – both practical (wages) and pastoral (selection) – was one of the 1980s' ubiquitous themes. Such an environment created a level of introspection and self-interest that bred little confidence in the England hierarchy, manifesting itself in a near-strike in Pakistan at the end of 1987 and the rush to join the rebel tours.

Robinson, who opted in 1989 to go to South Africa after playing one Test in each of the previous two summers, agrees that a more thoughtful and structured approach to player relationships might have kept him in the England fold. 'And I think that would probably go for most of them on that rebel tour,' he added. 'I was not the only one in that situation, thinking I couldn't rely on my position with the England team. There was no consistency. No one would deny that financially it was attractive, but the situation we found ourselves in as good county cricketers meant it was quite easy pickings for a rebel tour.'

Even someone like Curtis, who because of 'what I believe in and felt comfortable with, would not have gone and would question the decision of those who did', accepts that his ability to work as a teacher for two terms in the off-season allowed him more freedom to exercise his moral choices.

Meanwhile, the rest of the world, many of whose nations had a smaller pool of professionals to choose from, watched England players come and go and were often left scratching their heads. After county colleague Hemmings was dropped following two Tests, Nottinghamshire's South African captain, Clive Rice, said, 'I don't think there is any point in getting too upset as this sort of treatment seems to be the norm of the England selectors over the years.' He accused them of 'building up players' confidence and then smashing it in order that they might have a so-called look at another player'.

And Athey concluded, 'Malcolm Marshall once said to me that if Richie Richardson and Gus Logie had been English they would have played about two games each.'

With the controversy over that first rebel tour swirling around as the 1982 summer series against India and Pakistan approached, the new selection panel made their first significant decision by removing Keith Fletcher as captain after one disappointing tour. Having believed that his was the better team in India, Fletcher also had 'the distinct feeling that they would be easier to beat on English soil' and was looking forward to proving so.

The decision to remove him appeared to be about more than results. May, who had been Fletcher's boyhood hero, appeared determined to make his mark by following TCCB instructions to instil more discipline into the England set-up. Sanctioning the retention of a captain who had hit out at his stumps in a fit of pique and then led a sit-in was not an action that blended with that remit.

Then there was the apparently low morale of the players, the negative approach to trying to save the series and the planning of the rebel tour. 'Raman Subba Row finds it hard to believe to this day that I was unaware of any clandestine negotiations,' Fletcher would write. Scyld Berry concluded that 'Fletcher was stripped of the captaincy because he had shown no capacity to stand back and above the battle'.

Among his players there is no consensus on Fletcher as captain. While Gower said Fletcher was 'much-liked and much-respected' by his tour party, Boycott considered Fletcher out of touch with the changing arena of Test cricket after a four-year absence.

Richards recalled rarely having an opportunity to discuss concerns about his on-tour status with his captain. 'It was a hard school in those days; dog eat dog,' he said. 'If anybody of note spoke with me it was Bob Willis. It seemed like an awfully long time on tour.' Legend has it that Fletcher even forgot the name of his reserve wicketkeeper when introducing his players to India's prime minister, Indira Gandhi, referring to him as 'Tiddler'.

A Test batting average of 36 in a series played in the environment most suited to his game had hardly made Fletcher indispensable, especially with an Ashes tour coming up and South African-born Allan Lamb now qualified for England after scoring ten first-class hundreds for Northamptonshire over the previous two seasons. Yet the selectors always knew that both were on the horizon, and that to include Fletcher on the hard, bouncy wickets of Australia, where he had struggled previously, would deny a place to Gatting, Gower or Lamb.

There were some who felt they should have looked further ahead before they sent Fletcher to India. That appointment carried the risk of forcing another captain to lead a touring team for the first time in the heat of Ashes battle should they retain Fletcher at home. Conversely, there was a strong argument that if Fletcher had been the right choice before the Indian tour he was still the right choice afterwards. In short, the selectors either shouldn't have appointed him in the first place or they should have stuck with him. It was not the final time in the decade they would be accused of being confused of thought or vacillating in their actions.

It was Willis to whom they turned; a man who, throughout most of the '70s, would have seemed the most unlikely of choices. Injury-prone, inconsistent and iconoclastic, Willis admits that it took some sharp words from his captain after underperforming in the latter stages of the 1976-77 winter to put his career on a path that ended up leading to the role of elder statesman and captain. 'My career basically went in two halves; before and after the Centenary Test. After Tony Greig said I let him down, I had a very serious programme of getting fit, most of it involving long-distance running. The injuries just went away and I was physically much stronger.'

Willis had gone on to show loyalty to England through the Packer and South Africa episodes. He'd become a stalwart of the team, his pumping knees, piston arms and bobbing curls a comforting sight for England fans as he approached the wicket like a runaway crane. He had also delivered a rousing speech midway through the recent Test in Sri Lanka, which was thought to have done much to revive England and push them towards victory. 'I was very surprised to be captain and the chance certainly would not have come along without the rebel tour depriving us of fifteen serious candidates for the side,' he said, adding his own belief that Fletcher might have retained the job if he'd not succumbed to his frustrations in India.

Having been informed of his appointment, Willis's first thought was for the good friend whose job he now held. Fletcher, whose first contact with the selectors after the Indian tour was when he was informed he had been replaced, was the first to call Willis to wish him luck. The new skipper believed he would need it.

## **7
EYE OF THE TIGER**

'The sport was resuscitated by a riveting series of bouts involving an improbably dissimilar quartet... they brought out the best in each other' – George Kimball, _Four Kings: Leonard, Hagler, Hearns, Duran and the Last Great Era of Boxing_

THEY were rightly labelled 'The Superfights', nine bloody and brutal battles between four men who ruled over their sport in the 1980s. And just as boxing was blessed by Ray Leonard, Thomas Hearns, Marvin Hagler and Roberto Duran, so world cricket was fortunate to have its own quartet of superstars born close enough together to dominate their arena. It meant that for much of the early part of the decade England's Tests were characterised by Ian Botham's bouts against the great all-rounders Kapil Dev, Imran Khan and Richard Hadlee.

If Botham was the uncompromising, hard-hitting Hagler – an undisputed champion for much of his career – then Kapil Dev was Leonard, the classicist, pure of style in his away-swing bowling but capable of the most unorthodox and fearsome knockout blows with bat in hand. That would make Imran Khan Pakistan's equivalent of 'The Hitman', the lean-looking Hearns, whose development from a light-punching jab merchant who found additional power and menace as he moved up in weights mirrored Imran's advance from innocuous medium-pacer to feared fast bowler and heartbeat of his team.

In the summer of 1982 – with Sylvester Stallone's _Rocky III_ playing in cinemas and the real-life conflict over the Falklands resolved – Botham was pitted against both of those subcontinental champions in turn. 'He relished the challenge,' said Ian Greig, a team-mate during that season. 'He was that sort of guy. When we played against Somerset for Sussex he was always up for the battle and loved to take Imran on. He wanted to come out on top, if not personally then certainly as a team.'

Before Imran, though, Botham had to contend with Kapil Dev, whose 'Haryana Hurricane' nickname could have been made for the ring. Kapil's background – he was one of the first genuine stars of Indian cricket to emerge from a small-town lower- middle-class background – made him a man of the people in the mould of Botham. And, without an abundance of talent around them, both men held the key to their team's fortunes.

India's tour followed a similar, albeit truncated, pattern to that recently undertaken by England: a home win in the first Test and the remainder of the matches drawn. The difference was that these games all produced moments of exciting and tense cricket. The agreement of ninety-six overs per day ensured greater value for the spectators' money and proved easily achievable without play extending much beyond normal hours.

Two returnees and two debutants marked England's first Test selection of the summer. Restored for the Lord's contest after two years away were Derek Randall, who had a big supporter in new skipper Bob Willis, and Phil Edmonds, whose selection as the left-arm spinner signalled the end of Derek Underwood's Test career. After eighty-six matches, the Kent stalwart was three wickets short of becoming only the second Englishman to reach 300, but had at least gone out on the high of an eight-wicket match in Sri Lanka earlier in the year.

The two new men selected were both, in differing ways, controversial nominations. The choice of South African-born batsman Allan Lamb, who had arrived at Northamptonshire in 1978, was imbued with irony, given that batting places had opened up due to the participation of players in unauthorised games in his homeland. Lamb had confirmed his place by performing well in England's comfortable 2-0 victory in the one-day series, including 99 in the second game. That after recovering from the shock of waking at 5am on the day of his England debut to find room-mate Randall practising shots naked in front of the mirror.

The selection of Derek Pringle excited a story-hungry media. A tall, well-built all-rounder, Pringle was still captain of Cambridge University but had already made an impression for Essex with his batting and, more notably, his seam bowling. And his earring. 'I was the first undergraduate picked for England since Ted Dexter and I had an ear stud, which got a lot of coverage,' he recalled. 'That was from a bet with a mate at university who said, "You wouldn't have the bollocks to have your ear pierced." We toured South Africa the previous winter with Cambridge and I met a medical student who said she would pierce my ear so after half a bottle of wine she did so.

'I was very surprised to be selected. A lot of people would have thought, "What exactly has he done to deserve this?" I probably agreed. They'd had a bad winter and decided to spruce things up a bit. I timed it well, doing well for Cambridge. I remember I had a good game against Warwickshire in front of Bob Willis, who came down and watched. The MCC invited me to play against India at Lord's and I got a few wickets.'

Even so, when Peter May called him at Cambridge to tell him he had been picked for the Test, Pringle refused to believe it. 'I thought it was a mate of mine taking the mickey because he had done something similar to a rugby player a couple of months earlier. I just said, "Piss off," and put the phone down. He rang back and said, "Who am I speaking to?"'

Inevitably, Pringle's memory of his first day with the England camp is dominated by Botham. 'We used to turn up on a Wednesday afternoon, ready to be in the nets at 3pm, and then had the team dinner,' he explained. 'It was three or four courses and Botham said, "Have the wine because it will help you to relax." After the dinner he said, "I don't think you have had enough yet, come to the bar with me," and we had another couple of pints of beer.'

It was Kapil Dev, shaping for another shot at Botham's title of champion all-rounder, who struck the early blows of the series, but Gower and Botham scored briskly before Randall set about repairing the damage of their departures. In support he found Edmonds, playing his highest Test innings, and advanced from 84 not out overnight to complete a battling century on the second morning. Taking almost six hours, it was far from being Randall's most scintillating innings but few begrudged seeing one of England's most popular cricketers taking advantage of his opportunity.

Paul Allott and Willis rounded off the innings with a jolly partnership of 70 and then played their part in reducing India to 45 for 5. Gavaskar and Kapil Dev survived the remainder of the day but the usual rain-hit Lord's Saturday saw India dismissed for 145 (Botham 5 for 46) and two down for 67 heading into day four after following on.

The graceful Dilip Vengsarkar did more than simply survive, his innings of 157 covering 331 minutes and including twenty-one fours. Willis, at one point bowling to six slips, responded superbly with a four-wicket burst with the second new ball, including three in nine deliveries. Kapil Dev threatened at one stage to score the fastest-ever Test century but, having hit thirteen fours and three sixes to all corners of the ground, he was caught for 89 off the fifty-fifth delivery he received. He added further to his legend by grabbing three wickets before close of play, but Lamb guided England to victory on the final morning.

Stereotypical Manchester weather was the key contributor to the second Test, wiping out two sessions of the second day, the whole of the last and turning up for periods on all the others. Despite the wet, however, it was the bare-looking wicket that saw Geoff Miller, rather than Kent seamer Paul Jarvis, included in place of the injured Allott. India, meanwhile, pushed up young spinner Ravi Shastri to open alongside Gavaskar.

Geoff Cook and Chris Tavaré did well in difficult early conditions, albeit at a laboured pace, to put on 106 for the opening wicket, both men finishing with half-centuries. Having slipped to 161 for 5 thereafter, Botham restored impetus on the second day with a 169-ball innings of 128, full of powerful drives and fierce cuts and pulls. He was forced to bat with a runner after taking a delivery painfully on the toe, but avoided the usual hazards of such a situation by scoring 28 of the 32 he'd needed to complete his tenth Test hundred in boundaries. By the time he played on against Shastri he had hit nineteen fours and a pair of sixes. Miller gave valuable, unassuming support and, with rain extending England's innings until late on the third day, he was out, agonisingly, two runs short of a maiden first-class century after well over five hours at the crease.

Willis removed both openers before the close and Pringle accounted for Vengsarkar, but India scored freely the next day. Inevitably Kapil Dev sparkled, with 65 runs off 55 balls, but it was Sandeep Patil, called up for this Test, who excelled, making Test history by hitting Willis for fours off six of the seven deliveries in his first over with the second new ball. In the course of that assault he reached three figures and would remain unbeaten on 129.

The third Test, played at The Oval, began once again with a sensibly-constructed century stand between Cook and Tavaré. Botham and Lamb used that as a foundation for their partnership of 144 in twenty-eight overs, with Lamb's timing and confidence growing as he moved towards his first century for England – which was duly completed after being 96 not out at the close of the day. Botham, using a new, heavier bat during this summer, bludgeoned on, not content with a mere hundred. Aiming his usual big drives, timing sweetly through the leg side and landing one massive six off Doshi on the roof of the pavilion, he finished with four maximums and nineteen fours, reaching 200 off 220 balls. In terms of minutes at the crease, only Wally Hammond and Denis Compton had reached the milestone quicker than Botham's 268. Randall was out for 95 before England closed at 594.

India were forced to bat without Gavaskar, who had taken a Botham blast full on the shin while fielding, but Shastri, Viswanath and Patil took up the challenge with half-centuries, setting the stage for Kapil Dev once more. This time he smashed 97 off 93 balls, driving the quicker bowlers with a full swing of the bat. Helping wicketkeeper Syed Kirmani add 130 for the sixth wicket, he ensured that India would avoid the follow-on. The final day was thus rendered meaningless, although Tavaré and Viswanath each took the opportunity to score unbeaten 75s, the latter in half the time of the former.

The feature of the series had been the gladiatorial confrontation between Botham and Kapil Dev, each seemingly intent on outdoing the other whenever they had bat or ball in hand. Botham's bowling produced a modest return of nine wickets, but his batting re-confirmed his return to form. Since his spell as captain, during which he averaged 13.14 and managed one fifty in twenty-one innings, he had now scored five centuries and six fifties in fourteen matches. In that period of time, exactly one year, he had scored 1,221 runs at an average of 64.3.

Kapil Dev had responded with a batting average for the series of 73, although his ten wickets had been earned at the costly rate of 43.90. Advantage Botham – just – but now came the Pakistani challenge.

Imran would dominate his team throughout the series, not just by virtue of his captaincy, but through being its fastest bowler and looking at times like its most accomplished and disciplined batsman. He seemed intent on dragging his side to victory by force of personality and personal effort. 'It was my first series as captain,' he recalled, 'and everyone was comparing me with Botham as an all-rounder so I was determined to do well on both accounts. I played it under a lot of pressure.'

An indication of that pressure was the way he spoke out against what he saw as umpiring injustices – a common theme of matches between these two countries in this decade. Both he and tour manager Intikhab Alam would go as far as blaming their series defeat on the match officials. They even requested, unsuccessfully, that David Constant and David Evans not be allowed to stand.

Imran was upset by insinuations that he was doing something illegal in order to maintain the shine on the ball. Gower, who captained England at Lord's, recalled, 'There were issues and there were questions asked. As a team we thought "this is a bit suspicious". I was blissfully unaware of issues like ball tampering at the time. Some of the players seemed to know more about it than others.'

Imran complained, 'If that's what people think I'd like the ball to be taken to a laboratory so it can be properly tested. If there's any evidence that anything improper has been done then I am prepared to give up playing. We are all swing bowlers in Pakistan. You can't seam the ball there, so if you can't swing it you can't bowl there.'

His seven wickets in the first Test at Edgbaston would prove in vain, however, as England took an early lead in the series. Mike Gatting had been selected as reward for his runs in county cricket, while the full figure of Nottinghamshire off-spinner Eddie Hemmings joined Sussex's Ian Greig in winning his first cap. Greig, of course, was following the same path taken a decade earlier by his brother, Tony. 'You knew there were going to be people comparing you,' he said. 'But my performances for Sussex had been exceptional and I think people were talking about me as an individual as well. I had accepted that I was Tony's brother – and he was a great brother and advisor – but we were different people.'

Willis maintained his perfect record in the toss and England batted, the ever-willing Randall being asked to open. Half-centuries in each of the previous two Tests had not been enough to protect Cook's place, although he was summoned to Birmingham on the eve of the game as injury cover. Against a new-ball attack missing injured veteran Sarfraz Nawaz, Randall started like a train and then left a straight one from Imran, while Tavaré plodded to 54 in more than four hours. Gower played a typically stylish knock of 74 but Imran moved the ball around to devastating effect to return figures of 7 for 52 as England were bowled out for 272.

Pakistan replied with an undisciplined 251, full of loose shots and wasted starts, with Greig taking four wickets after being given the new ball. 'I think that was basically a stuff-up,' he recalls. 'There was a wrong end chosen. I remember very clearly getting my first wicket, Tahir Naqqash caught behind, and then came a time when Bob Willis wanted to give me a blow because Zaheer was getting going. I said, "I have knocked him over that many times in county cricket, let me have a go. He will play across the line and I will get him lbw." Sure enough, either the next over or the one after I got him.'

Randall made a valuable, typically quirky century when England batted again, prompting _Wisden_ to comment that his innings 'owed little to orthodoxy and hardly encouraged the belief that he can be turned into a Test opener'. Eventually bowled for 105, it was clearly going to prove a vital knock as the middle order collapsed. Equally valuable were the 103 runs wicketkeeper Bob Taylor (54), Hemmings and Willis coaxed out of the final two wickets, turning what threatened to be a modest target into one of 313.

Botham severely dented Pakistan's hopes in his very first over, removing Mudassar Nazar and Mansoor Akhtar. Willis continued his renaissance, charging in like a man ten years younger than he was. Between them, and assisted by more airy-fairy batting, they reduced Pakistan to 77 for 6 on the way to a 113-run victory.

One unfortunate result of England's win was the absence of skipper Willis for the second Test at Lord's after hurting his neck evading an Imran bouncer. England's selectors gave a hint of their succession plan by appointing Gower to lead the team. It was hardly an auspicious introduction to leadership for a player with virtually no experience of captaincy. His team lost by ten wickets, Pakistan's first win in England since their inaugural success twenty-eight years earlier.

However, Gower followed a strategy that had been forced upon him by the selectors and which ultimately ended a wicketless Greig's Test career after only two matches. 'In the first Test, Willis gave me the ball and said, "OK, you've done this successfully in county cricket, so set your field and do it no differently,"' Greig recalled. 'I bowled wicket to wicket and got a high percentage of lbws and bowled, so it was unbelievable to be given that sort of confidence from your captain.

'In the second Test, David was thrust into the captaincy and the selectors suddenly appeared on the scene and came up with this plan where they talked about bowling eighteen inches outside off stump and boring the Pakistan players out – because they were too strong on their legs. I couldn't believe it. I had never bowled like that in my life. I was always aware of those who were good on their pads and likely to get me away but I would put a sweeper back on the leg side. I bowled a few overs before lunch and was totally innocuous. At lunch I met Bob Taylor in the toilet and I said, "This is ridiculous. We have got to bowl straight and set a field. If they play across the line and miss it they are gone. I can't afford on a good wicket at my pace to be bowling wide outside the off stump." Bob agreed with me so I said, "This is my second Test match, can I leave it to you to talk about this before the restart?" We went out and nothing changed. Eventually Robin Jackman said, "This is bullshit. Bugger the instructions; I am bowling at the stumps."'

Mohsin Khan put the tourists in control with a rousing double-century, full of the kind of clever leg-side strokes that made the selectors wary and wonderful driving. He even survived a four-hour weather delay while on 199, an interruption that prompted Imran to declare on 428 for 8 before the start of the third day. Half of those wickets fell to Jackman, playing his first home Test in place of Willis. Imran and Sarfraz inflicted early damage on England's reply, leg-spinner Abdul Qadir bamboozled the tail and England fell two short of avoiding the follow-on.

The first Sunday crowd for a Lord's Test can hardly have expected the innocuous medium-pace swing of Mudassar to steal the show by whipping out Randall, Lamb and Gower without conceding a run. Mudassar's look of surprised elation said it all. Tavaré responded with a rearguard that was impressive in its obstinacy even by his standards. Taking sixty-seven minutes to get off the mark, he shared with Botham a 112-run partnership for the fourth wicket. Weather extended the stand into the final day, when Mudassar struck again by having Botham caught at backward point for 69 before quickly removing Gatting and Greig.

Tavaré, becoming more adventurous, took England beyond an innings defeat before his 407-minute vigil ended when he edged Imran on 82. In the course of his innings he had scored the second-slowest Test fifty in history, his 352-minute marathon ranking behind only Trevor Bailey's effort in Brisbane a quarter of a century earlier. After more resistance from Taylor, Pakistan were left needing to score 76 off eighteen overs. Javed Miandad and Mohsin knocked them off in the fourteenth.

England wrapped up an enthralling series with a three-wicket win after surviving a second innings collapse at Headingley, where Willis returned and Lancashire opener Graeme Fowler and Somerset spinner Vic Marks received their first Test caps, not to mention new nicknames. 'It was very weird,' Fowler explained. 'First of all, the gateman wouldn't let me in because I had no pass, but I managed to wheedle my way in and walked into the dressing room. I started getting ready and Bob Willis said, "Foxy!" I looked up and said, "What? Why have you called me that?" He said that was my name now and that's how I got my nickname. He got everybody together at the nets and he introduced everyone. He introduced me and Vic by saying, "This is Foxy and this is Skid." I never asked him why he chose Foxy. Now he calls me Graeme!'

Willis was quickly forgiven his eccentricity by his new recruit. 'He wasn't very communicative and he didn't always understand batting,' said Fowler, 'but he did something fantastic with me. He said, "Foxy, you are always in the covers. You never move unless I say so." He gave me that responsibility. He was about to bowl and I asked if he wanted me straight or square. He said, "You are in charge of that; that is your area." So I would play around with the batsmen so they didn't know what you were doing. Bob trusted me to do that. I might give the batsman a single and then try to run him out next time. To have that freedom was fantastic'.

May explained that Fowler had been selected because 'he seems to have a lot of time, keeps his head over the ball and doesn't play the ball away from his body'. The third opener to be picked to partner Tavaré that summer, Fowler admitted, 'The thing that has annoyed me ever since is people saying I only got picked because Gooch went to South Africa. If you look online it has become an accepted fact. People say it wherever I go.'

A century partnership between Mudassar and Miandad formed the foundation of Pakistan's first innings, with Imran adding his own half-century to take them to 275. Botham took four wickets and Jackman was rewarded for a marathon spell with three. Having lost three seamers to injury and being forced to share the new ball with Ehteshamuddin from Bolton club side Daisy Hill, Imran – on his way to a second consecutive Man of the Match award – led from the front again with a five-wicket return. He was unhappy, though, with the refusal of Qadir's appeal for a catch when Gower had scored only seven. Gower went on to bat for almost four hours for 74, Botham offering belligerent support with 57.

Facing a deficit of nineteen, Willis put his team in command when he found both Mohsin and Mudassar's edge in the first over of the innings. Just as he had been apparently inspired by Kapil Dev's challenge in the early part of the summer, so Botham now proved he could match any of Imran's feats by firing out five Pakistani batsmen, beginning with Javed after another half-century. Imran had further cause for anger after Sikander Bakht, who had been helping him add late runs, was given out at short leg when he clearly made no contact.

It left England needing 219 to win, a target which seemed a formality when they had reached 168 for 1. Fowler played with confidence and skill, while Tavaré was as solid as ever to help the opening partnership into three figures. With light on the fourth day fading, Fowler and Gatting twice turned down the chance to come off and were left regretting it when Mudassar again proved to have a golden arm with a spell of 3 for 11. Fowler was caught behind for 86, Lamb and Gower went cheaply, and Imran trapped Gatting and Randall leg before. At 189 for 6, England were still 30 runs short of victory. Botham's dismissal in the second over of the final day increased the tension, but Marks and Taylor held firm and England had their second series win of the summer.

### **Promised You a Miracle**

In the consumer-driven, yuppie-inhabited western world, the 1980s was the decade of status; a time when to be seen without the most desirable commodity of the day or to have the wrong designer tag was likely to attract ridicule. In world cricket, the equivalent of the CD player or Gucci handbag was the match-winning all-rounder. England, in Ian Botham, had the coolest, most indispensable one of all. But it wasn't enough. Just as author Dylan Brown contends in _The Eighties: One Day, One Decade_ that 'status frenzy caused most of those lunatics whose consumer habits once helped prop up the luxury industry to travel far and wide in search of their next hit', so English cricket – from the selectors to the scribes – became obsessed with finding another Botham. This became even truer as the years passed and the old one began to look worn out. If only it had been as easy as taking a plastic card to a hole-in-the-wall cash dispenser, handing over a wad of tenners in a brand new Ikea store and awaiting delivery at the customer pick-up point.

Derek Pringle was the first player to be saddled with the unreasonable expectation of following the effortless path of Botham, who had himself succeeded – and exceeded – the considerable achievements of Tony Greig. When Pringle was first picked by England, not only was the tale of an undergraduate earning a Test cap a headline-making throwback to a bygone era, his selection launched the phenomenon of the 'new Botham'. It was as unfair as asking Sumbu Kalambay to carry on the mantle of those great middleweight champions.

Much has been made of the pressure placed upon Pringle and, subsequently, the likes of David Capel, Phil DeFreitas and others, but the players claim it is something of a myth. 'It never bothered me,' said Pringle. 'I had seen Ian play and I knew I wasn't as good as him. I was just trying to do things my way. That came into being more while I was still at Cambridge. We were playing on pretty good decks and I was an aggressive batsman because it didn't matter if you lost. I used to take a few county attacks apart in my last couple of years.'

Pringle believes it was the simple pressure of playing professionally that affected him more than any Botham comparisons. 'Once it is your livelihood you start being a bit more cautious and don't play with as much freedom. I wish I had been a bit freer in the way I approached it and played more like I did at university. It has become a cliché to talk about playing without fear but if you can make yourself do that it does help. It is very hard to do. Nowadays with central contracts and extra money comes a lifestyle that requires even more money and it frightens players a little bit. You hear of players fearing losing central contracts because they have got a huge mortgage.'

Botham's apparently carefree approach to the game was one of its defining characteristics. Pringle confirmed that Botham certainly never felt his position was threatened by any emerging English all-rounder. 'If he did, he didn't let on. He was very friendly and generous in his friendship in those early days.' But did he empathise with the 'pretenders' over the media scrutiny his own achievements placed upon them? 'I don't think he thought about things that deeply,' Pringle laughed.

A back injury afforded Pringle a break from such attention midway through his first international season, although not because he injured himself writing a letter, as has become the apocryphal version of events. 'I was actually getting some tickets for a match,' he explained. 'I leant back in the chair and it sort of broke. My back went into spasm and I made it worse by dragging the mattress off the bed thinking I needed to sleep on a firm surface. They sent me to train with Ipswich Town and when I got there they asked if I had my football boots with me. I said I didn't play football and they said, "Well, that's all we do," so I was left to my own devices.'

Pringle's mishap meant a chance for Ian Greig, a decent lower-middle-order batsman who'd taken sixty Championship wickets the previous season. Having lived with the achievements of his older brother, his selection prompted the inevitable Botham comparisons. 'I can't believe the press would ever be so naïve to think anyone could challenge Botham, but they were asking, "Is there another all-rounder good enough to supplement the man, take a bit of pressure off and play as a second all-rounder?" he said. 'Realistically, with all due respect to Pringle, Capel or whoever, no one was ever going to be another Botham.'

When DeFreitas was brought into the England fold four years later at the age of twenty, he found the man whose shoes he was being projected to fill in the long term a generous mentor. 'He took me under his wing and looked after me,' he explained. 'This was a guy I had worshipped and he he was showing an interest in me and my career. It helped me to feel a part of the side.'

Mike Gatting, captain of the Australian tour for which the Leicestershire all-rounder had been selected, had told Botham to 'look after' the young bowlers during the first weeks of the tour. 'I think he appreciated the fact that somebody came and asked him for help,' Gatting remarked.

As Botham began winding down his Test career, opting out of tours, it would be the turn of Northamptonshire's David Capel, in 1987, to step up for the first of his thirteen Test matches. A capable batsman and steady seam bowler, Capel knew Botham was in a different league and tried not to pay too much attention to a demanding press and public. 'I didn't really think about any comparison,' he said. 'I just looked to go out and bat and bowl. It would have been ridiculous to compare us. I was fourth seamer and batting seven; he was a terrific world-class bowler and a legend.'

At the time, however, it could be difficult not to be drawn into the debate. In an effort to convey the confidence expected of someone entering the Test arena, Capel did occasionally state his intention of playing as well as Botham, which quickly appeared in print as the laying down of some kind of challenge to his famous team-mate. 'I was asked a few questions about it and at the time felt I was misquoted and the press turned things around, so a few things blew up. It was a sad episode. I would have loved to have played alongside Ian more often. I wanted to learn and he could have taught me a lot.'

In 1982, Botham had been proved to have stronger support in his corner than his rivals. And it would be much the same story the following summer when another magnificent all-rounder, Richard Hadlee, and his New Zealand colleagues played a four-Test series at the conclusion of the third World Cup.

England would make an unimpressive start to the series, Randall's unbeaten 75 after a scratchy opening being the only noteworthy contribution to a total of 209. On a good track, Hadlee's six wickets showed that he was still one of the world's leading fast bowlers, even at the age of thirty-three. His shortened run did nothing to detract from his menace. Willis was just as imposing, taking four early wickets to reduce the tourists to 41 for 5, before Hadlee hit an uncomplicated 84 off 78 balls to take New Zealand within thirteen of England's total.

In batting their opponents out of the game, England did not exactly endear themselves to the Oval crowd, who booed and slow-handclapped at the end of a third day in which they scored only 194 runs in 98 overs. It was a notable innings, however, for Tavaré and Fowler, who became the first pair of England openers since 1960 to score centuries in the same innings as they shared a stand of 223. Fowler had a couple of early escapes before advancing unhurriedly towards his maiden Test century. 'When I was playing well I hit the sightscreen,' he says. 'I hit it straight and it didn't matter whether it was quick or spin bowing. Often the mode of dismissal when I was playing well was caught and bowled. When I was playing badly I couldn't fucking hit it. I'd had a couple of eighties but to get the century; well, they can't take it away from you. People don't remember the sixties. It was lovely.'

Tavaré again showed that he could play shots all around the wicket when the mood took him and it was the loss of both of them that led to the innings becoming bogged down. Lamb, battling against a loss of form, soldiered on for five hours to reach his hundred before Willis declared, leaving New Zealand 460 to win. Having played two spinners, England allowed Marks and Edmonds to do the bulk of the bowling after Willis's two early wickets. Wright and Howarth's century third-wicket partnership hinted briefly at the tourists saving the game but England ran out as 189-run victors.

New Zealand's players enjoyed their moment of history in the second Test at Headingley, achieving their first victory in England, fifty-two years after their first visit. Lance Cairns set them on their way by bowling a full length and swinging the ball after Geoff Howarth had put England in to bat, becoming the first of his countrymen to take seven wickets against England as the home side were dismissed for 225. Tavaré held firm for almost five hours before being eighth man out for 69. The visitors then achieved a lead of 152 thanks to Wright (93), Hadlee (73) and Edgar, who returned to make 84 after taking an early blow against Botham.

At 116 for 2 and with Gower and Lamb at the wicket, England looked like they might approach parity without further loss. But after Lamb fell to Coney it was left to Gower to secure a lead of 100 with an attractive unbeaten innings of 112. Chatfield, eight years after he had almost died on the cricket field against England, returned his best Test figures of 5 for 95. Feeling unable to use Botham after his erratic bowling in the first innings, Willis did his best to reprise his heroics on the same ground two years earlier, dismissing five New Zealanders with 83 on the board before Coney and Hadlee completed victory after tea on the fourth day.

After such a triumph, New Zealand were disappointed to be comprehensively beaten in the final two Tests, by 127 runs at Lord's and 165 at Trent Bridge. Gower, gracefully in the third, and Botham and Lamb, forcefully in the fourth, contributed hundreds for England, while it was the new left-arm spinner, Nick Cook, who took the bowling honours.

Cook joined Hampshire's South African-born Chris Smith and Essex seamer Neil Foster as debutants at Lord's, where Fowler, Dilley and Edmonds all missed out through form or injury. 'When you left one Test, you didn't know if you'd be at the next one or not,' says Fowler. 'I averaged seventy-two in the World Cup, got a maiden hundred in the first Test of the summer, didn't do well in the second Test and I got dropped! It wasn't like I was massively out of nick'.

Cook, of course, was experiencing the brighter side of the selectors' split personality. 'I thought I might have got selected to go to Australia the winter before but they took three off-spinners instead,' he said. 'When the call came it was a bit of luck in that Edmonds got injured. Bob Willis spoke to Keith Fletcher and I had done particularly well against Essex on a number of occasions and I got a good review.'

Entering England's inner sanctum with typical debutant's nerves, Cook remembered, 'It was the same as any other dressing room. You would have someone quiet with his headphones on, i.e. Bob Willis; Chris Tavaré in the corner wouldn't be saying anything; Bob Taylor would be looking to get some deal done; Botham was larger than life; Lamb and Gower were busy doing other things; and then you'd have two or three debutants sitting looking at each other and wondering what was going on.

'Bob expected everybody to know what they were doing. He told me, "First innings, I want you to be going at one and three quarter runs an over; second innings, there will be more chance for wickets." But I don't think he had a lot of time for spinners. His mantra was if it did something off the deck at 50mph think what it would do if someone was bowling at eighty or eighty-five. You had to earn your stripes with him.'

Cook responded by taking the vital wicket of Edgar as New Zealand strove to match England's first innings 326 and used clever flight and spin to take four more. A second innings score of 211 put England 346 ahead and Willis, Cowans and Cook ensured that it was more than enough.

In the final Test, England were given a commanding position that they never relinquished by a partnership of 186 in thirty-two overs by Botham and Randall. According to _Wisden_ , Botham 'rediscovered the sort of violent strokeplay that makes good-length bowling irrelevant' as he reached a century off ninety-nine balls, including three sixes and sixteen fours. Randall's 83 was almost as entertaining.

With only four bowlers and no rest day, Willis chose not to enforce the follow-on after Cook had repeated his five-wicket performance of Lord's. Instead, Lamb took the opportunity to cruise to an untroubled century as England advanced their lead beyond 500. At least New Zealand didn't succumb too meekly, with the left-handed Edgar continuing his fine form with a second half-century in the match and Hadlee left stranded eight short of the tourists' first three-figure score of the series after an unrestrained succession of powerful blasts.

Cook finished the game with seventeen wickets in his first two Test matches. 'I got it down there reasonably quickly but still had a loop on it,' he said of his bowling style. 'I didn't bowl too many bad balls and I was happy bowling maiden after maiden. At Lord's in August it turned and New Zealand hadn't seen me, and at Trent Bridge my fifty overs was as long as I have bowled in my life. I felt as though I had the ball on a piece of string and could do what I wanted with it, which happens rarely in your career.'

Unless you were Ian Botham, of course.

## **8
DOWN UNDER**

'We were almost a second eleven. We had five decent players and the others on the tour were just making up the numbers' – England captain Bob Willis

THE last time England had defended the Ashes in Australia, Mike Brearley's team capitalised on meeting an Australian unit badly depleted by defections to Kerry Packer. Now the situation was reversed, with Bob Willis's team arriving for the 1982-83 series counting their absentees from the ban imposed on the South African rebels. Once the home side had regained possession of cricket's treasured urn Willis made little attempt to hide his exasperation.

The loss of Graham Gooch, a veteran of 1978-79 whose career had begun to blossom in Australia during the unification series a year later, was the most glaring. Eight times in ten innings England would be a wicket down with fewer than fifteen runs on the board. Chris Tavaré was forced to continue his role as reluctant opener, with Geoff Cook's technique exposed by the quick bowlers and Graeme Fowler horribly out of form at the start of the tour. Even Geoff Boycott, in his advanced years, would have been a greater asset.

Doug Insole, a former England vice-captain and selector, had been named to reprise his role as manager of the 1978-79 tour, but comparisons with that successful trip ended there. On his first tour as captain, Willis – the first fast bowler since Gubby Allen in 1936-37 to lead England overseas – battled to find a balance between the needs of a struggling team and the attention he wanted to devote to his own game.

'With Bob you could perhaps see why they don't give the captaincy to fast bowlers very often,' Derek Pringle suggested. 'Bowling took it out of him so much; he ran a long way and his knees hurt and he had to get into a zone where he became oblivious to other things. You have to make the new ball count in Test cricket so when he'd had a bit of a rest he got a bit more focus, but when he was bowling his captaincy was a little sketchy.'

Frequently agonising over his rhythm and form, which in the past he would have addressed by retreating into his own cocoon of concentration, he was forced to allow considerable input from others in the field. Vice-captain David Gower, former skipper Ian Botham and the experienced Bob Taylor all played important roles in that regard. 'I got on very well with Bob,' said Gower. 'He is a very principled man and has firm thoughts on the game, which are now very evident if you listen to him on Sky. We worked well together. The only downside is that sometimes as a specialist quick bowler there are conflicting interests, so it is not always easy to be completely detached as a captain as you might want to be.'

Paul Allott, who played most of his Test cricket under Willis, added, 'Initially, you weren't sure how to take Bob. But subsequently we have become very close friends. He led by example as a fast bowler would. It was pretty hard work doing what he did for ninety Test matches. He expected everybody to perform at 100 per cent all the time, knowing that you can't succeed all the time but you have got to be seen to be putting it in. He was an uncomplicated soul in that regard.'

Given Willis's need to accept input from others, there were inevitably times when the England team gave the impression of being run by committee and when the captain regretted listening so intently to his colleagues – notably when being talked into bowling first in the third Test when his own instinct was to bat. Willis himself confessed, 'I enjoyed captaincy more in England than I did abroad, where you have to be one step removed from the team. I was always the sergeant-major vice-captain figure in the background but still one of the lads. It is impossible to be one of the lads as captain. I used to spend a lot of time with the managers of the tours rather than with the players and it was a bit of a lonely job abroad.'

The need for Willis's own bowling to be at its peak, which it wasn't in the second half of the tour, was emphasised by his lack of faith in Middlesex's Norman Cowans early on and the struggles of Botham with his back and his weight.

Botham's eighteen wickets in the series cost more than forty runs each. Nor did he contribute greatly with the bat, forcing _Wisden_ to note, 'He left behind in Australia many past cricketers and present judges who have yet to be convinced that he is a great all-rounder.'

Cowans, only twenty-one and without even a half-century of first-class wickets to his name, owed his place to raw promise and the kind of pace that had earned him the nickname 'Flash'. Meanwhile, Pringle was picked to add depth to the seam bowling rather than as a poor man's Botham. Robin Jackman was a somewhat safe option, perhaps with the one-dayers in mind. In fact, David Lloyd would write to his Lancashire team-mate Fowler during the tour that Jackman had acquired the nickname Lucan because 'since he left England no one's seen or heard of him'.

It was in the spin department that most eyebrows were raised, with the presence of three off-break bowlers – Geoff Miller, Eddie Hemmings and Vic Marks – appearing to be one too many. Miller's batting had apparently been a factor again, although tour diarist Robin Marlar noted, 'It is no accident that he has played ten seasons of first-class cricket, to say nothing of five overseas tours, without ever scoring a hundred.' Even Hemmings admitted that Phil Edmonds 'would have offered more variety' but added, 'There were rumours that Bob Willis didn't particularly want a strong outspoken character like Phil in his dressing room.'

Having been witness to Edmonds getting under Willis's skin the previous summer, Pringle subscribes to that opinion. 'He had a bit of a run-in with Edmonds in my first Test. Philippe was pratting around a bit too much. I was new and thought it was hilarious. He was fielding at short leg and we got Shastri out early on and in came Vengsarkar. There was a bit of sledging and Vengsarkar put his arm up and complained to umpire David Evans, "This man is abusing me." Willis gave Edmonds a bit of a telling off. So in the second innings he was fielding at short leg again when Vengsarkar came in so he tied a gag around his mouth. Willis had to give him a bit of a bollocking.'

Later in the series, Edmonds was confronted by a batsman he had not seen previously. 'He called out, "Anyone seen this wanker bat?"' Pringle continued. 'I said he'd played against Essex so with great theatricality Phil summoned me over for a chat and made the batsman wait. He was just about to bowl and he stopped and said, "Are you sure that was how you got him out?" We had actually got him out bowling seam. At this point Willis is fuming and saying, "Get on with it," and Phil bowled a bouncer at him. Poor old Bob Taylor had no chance: four byes.' Willis evidently decided he could do without such a sideshow during an Ashes contest.

Of the batsmen, Gatting was the most obvious candidate to be left out of the squad, and he subsequently declined the chance to be the official standby player due to a gall bladder operation. Players such as Bill Athey and Paul Parker had not advanced their claims sufficiently during the 1982 season. Meanwhile, Allan Lamb approached his first tour by seeking – and receiving – reassurance from the likes of Willis, Botham and Gower that his South African upbringing was not being held against him by other members of the team.

Fowler explained the build-up to departure. 'I played in the last Test of the summer, managed to get the top score in the game and found out while I was at Somerset for the last game of the year that I had been picked for the tour,' he said. 'My recollection is that we had to go to Lord's to be measured for jackets and tour uniforms. Then we went to Birmingham for a medical, which was basically blood pressure, piss on a stick and that was it. We were given loads of stupid stuff like tour sunglasses and tour shoes that your granddad wouldn't have worn. I remember being given a crimplene safari suit and thinking, "That is never going to see the light of day." It didn't. We didn't have any nets or anything. We turned up at Lord's again the day before we went on tour and spent the whole day collecting blazers and trousers. I don't know why they bothered measuring us because nothing fitted anyone. We got masses of stuff we were never going to use so we just put it in a cupboard at Lord's all winter. When we got to Brisbane we had a fitness test, which was a bit late really. The test was to run a mile in six minutes. To be honest, I could have done it backwards.'

Part of the squad's subsequent discussions about the series revolved around their agreement that batsmen would not walk until given out, which went against the natural instincts of Cook, Tavaré and Miller, while the bowlers were also instructed to eliminate unnecessary appeals, a move that Lamb believed 'robbed them of a bit of aggression'.

The Ashes series arrived after four weeks in the country, which had included three four-day games and a three-day contest. Far from offering a sun-drenched respite from the usual winter tales of football hooliganism, the first Test appeared to mirror the unrest on the terraces, with Australian bowler Terry Alderman hurt after a field invasion and twenty-six arrested during the ensuing fighting in the crowd.

All this after Greg Chappell's decision to allow England first use of a Perth wicket with initial moisture was made to look a bad one by a calm and solid batting performance. Having picked Cook to open instead of Fowler, and Pringle as fourth seamer ahead of Jackman, England had seen Tavaré and Gower play typical innings – one intractable, the other effortless. The Kent man batted through the first day for 66 not out and failed to score a run for a ninety-minute spell at end of the day and start of the next. Derek Randall then became the third half-centurion and Botham the first victim of too many poor decisions throughout the series when he was given out caught off his pad. Bob Taylor and Willis took the score past 400 on the second afternoon.

It was then that about fifteen spectators entered the playing arena, several carrying small Union Jacks. As Alderman confronted one, another – stripped to the waist – ran past the Australian bowler from behind, clipping him a glancing blow to the head and dislodging his sun hat. Alderman gave chase, delivering a rugby tackle on his assailant just before Lillee and Border arrived to help complete the takedown. Alderman sat holding his right arm in obvious agony, the shoulder dislocated. Nearby, a policeman lay hurt. It was hard to believe it was a cricket field one was looking at.

There was a suggestion that Alderman's injury might have occurred under the weight of his team-mates rather than through his own tackle while Willis felt that the bowler contributed to his own misfortune. 'I sympathise with him of course,' he said, 'but it can never be the players' job to deal with crowd invasions'.

The wording of the 'Code of Behaviour' issued to Australian players prior to the series, however, was somewhat more equivocal. Section A, paragraph 1 read: 'Players must not assault or attempt to assault an umpire, another player or a spectator. The Code does not apply to any player's conduct towards any spectator trespassing on the ground.' It's hard to know what is more bizarre; the need to issue such instructions to players or the wording that appears to make fair game of any fan foolish enough to enter the playing area.

While the field was being cleared, fighting broke out between rival fans at the front of the grandstand, where many of the English supporters were gathered. Ill-prepared for such a situation, the police called for reinforcements, who arrived in vans with sirens wailing and made a slew of arrests. A further group of around twenty England fans were escorted out of the ground. In attire and attitude they looked not unlike those whom TV viewers back home were used to seeing being dragged out of football stadia.

Willis called the scenes 'as sickening as anything I have ever seen on a Test ground' and concluded, 'It was plainly all down to booze again, but it was clear to me that the boot boys had spread to cricket, and that prospect revolted me.' The sale of alcohol was subsequently banned during the middle session of future days' play.

It took police twenty minutes to restore order before the players were able to return and continue the game. Once Chappell and Hughes had shared a swift partnership of 141 on day three, the draw always looked the most likely result, the home skipper going on to score his eighth Test century against the old enemy. England managed to bat themselves into trouble, though, and ended the fourth day only 150 ahead with five wickets left.

This time Tavaré took two and a quarter hours to score nine. Having been happy at his opener's first-innings crawl, especially after he'd gone into the Test on the back of a pair in the previous warm-up game, Willis felt he was 'too slow' and delayed England's progress to a position of safety. Yet the inconsistency of attitude towards Tavaré's scoring rate – even within his own team – was obvious by the ambiguous message Willis would give him before the second Test, telling him he was pleased with how he had performed but urging him to score an additional six singles an hour. Although not sounding like much, for a player like Tavaré it represented a considerable acceleration.

On the final day in Perth, nightwatchman Taylor hung around for ninety minutes to support Randall, who added to his consistent returns of the previous summer and the first innings here by reaching his third Test hundred in Australia. His 115 was a dogged effort but full of moments of trademark impishness and angled-bat shots. Willis called it a 'monumental effort' and was grateful for the obvious boost it would give to the confidence of a player whose fragile temperament remained a constant cause for concern.

Condemned to complete the series without Alderman and Lillee, who required knee surgery, Australia barely missed a step. They took the lead with a comfortable win at Brisbane, where Lawson followed up his five-wicket performance in the second innings at Perth with six and five in England's two knocks and Jeff Thomson heralded his return by taking five in the second innings. Thomson's rhythm and pace were back in evidence and, as if to prove that he still retained some of the bully with the sling-shot delivery who'd traumatised England eight years earlier, he even picked up a warning for intimidatory bowling.

England's build-up to the game had angered Willis, particularly an unimpressive first half against New South Wales, a match they eventually won. 'What some of our guys do not seem to appreciate is that they cannot expect to turn on their best like a tap when the occasion demands it,' he complained in his tour diary. He ended the match telling his players that some were clearly 'not fit enough to spend long, hot days in the Australian sun' and ordering a more committed approach to training.

Willis also got manager Insole to remind Botham that he needed to look after himself more now, at twenty-seven, than he did earlier in his career. 'It would be wrong to let our friendship influence what I have to do as skipper, but I owe him some of the faith he showed me,' said Willis, referring to Botham sticking by him during his struggles against the West Indies a couple of years earlier. That element of their relationship made Willis even angrier at a subsequent story in _The Sun_ about a supposed rift between the two.

Between being dismissed for 219 – 'we were miserably bad', said Willis – and 309, England saw Kepler Wessels, a naturalised South African who had represented Australia in World Series Cricket, score 162 on his Test debut to help his team to a lead of 122. With Willis bowling with pace and passion to pick up five wickets, Wessels confined himself to safe shots in his favourite off-side areas and was assisted by disappointing bowling from Botham and Cowans, in whom Willis lost all faith. Hemmings found himself back on to bowl with the second new ball only eight overs old.

That Australia were left needing as many as 188 to win was down largely to Fowler, only called into the team when Cook cracked a rib on the eve of the game. 'I enjoyed being on tour but I was naïve and I was playing dreadfully,' said Fowler, who had little in the way of formal technical assistance to call upon. 'We had a manager and an assistant manager, Norman Gifford. His two jobs were to sort out the luggage and hit catches at fielding practice but I loved every minute I spent with him.

'I had always done my own thing. If you start talking to Ian Botham about cricket you are going to learn something. There were some who weren't very good at explaining things. You could never ask Lamby anything. He did everything on instinct and did it brilliantly, but he couldn't break it down. There were other people around and Norman was a great bloke to talk to, but there was no coaching, no regimentation.

'There are certain elements that exist today that I would have loved. I would have loved having sports psychologists to talk to. You want to know what other people are going through, if you have a common problem or whatever. The medical back-up could have been better and occasionally you might want some analysis and someone to look at stuff. I never saw myself bat on video until the BBC highlights of my first Test. But I saw a picture of England's latest one-day squad in Australia and there were sixteen players and sixteen backroom staff. What the fuck do they all do?

'I wouldn't want to be pestered and told to do this and that. I liked to be independent. I liked the responsibility of my game resting on my shoulders. I was told, "Now you are playing for England you can't bat that way." So I tried to play like a bloody England opener and I couldn't. The manager went through a list of shots we weren't allowed to play. You weren't allowed to hook because you couldn't control it. I remember Beefy throwing his bat around the dressing room because he had listened to somebody and he pulled out of a hook shot. It just ran up the face of the bat and he got caught behind. He was annoyed at himself that he had listened. I thought, "I'll go the same way." If I wasn't good enough to play for England I was going to be not good enough playing my own way. I was going to live or die by my own sword.'

Playing according to his own methods in Brisbane, the Lancashire man struggled and flashed throughout his innings but hung in for 83, before Miller added an important 60. But after a fast start and a brief stumble against England's somewhat chaotic seam attack, Australia were steered to a seven-wicket win by David Hookes and Kim Hughes at the beginning of the final hour.

The match had given Ashes newcomer Fowler an insight into the intensity – and camaraderie – of games between the two oldest Test nations. 'Geoff Lawson played in the Lancashire League and played a year in the Lancashire second team alongside me, so I knew him really well. The first time I saw him in Australia was when I played against him in a Test match. He was calling me every name under the sun and effing and blinding. I remember thinking, "You are my mate." It went on all day. At the end of play you went into the dressing room of whoever was fielding and he shouted, "Foxy, come over here," and got me a can of beer. You realised that you went hell for leather during the day but whatever happens on the pitch is one thing and what goes on off it is another. These days, by the time they have a warm down and an ice bath and a massage and all the press, it is half past nine and they don't have time for a beer. I made good friends with the Australian players.'

Two weeks after Thomson's successful return, England found another nemesis, Rodney Hogg, helping to bar their path to retention of the Ashes. Replacing the injured Rackemann, he joined Thomson in providing aggressive support to the outstanding Lawson, who claimed nine victims in another overwhelming Australian win at the Adelaide Oval.

Having inserted Australia, Willis was forced to claim he had gambled on his bowling attack – in which Pringle replaced Cowans – taking advantage of some early assistance from the wicket. It was either that or admit that he had been persuaded into a decision with which he disagreed and which he felt most players supported only because of their lack of confidence at the crease. In the end, he felt it had made little difference. England's disappointing performance had little to do with the conditions.

Pringle struggled with an outbreak of no-balls – a preposterous 27 by the end of the innings – and Chappell compiled a chanceless century full of grace and power to take his team to 265 for 3 on day one. 'I think England worked out I was an English conditions performer,' said Pringle, who would not tour again for eight years. 'They asked if I could bowl half a yard quicker and I tried to. We didn't have any bowling coaches or anyone helping you use the right muscle group. I tried and two things happened: I bowled a lot of no-balls and I hurt my back in a different place to where it had gone the previous summer.'

By lunch on the third day England were 140 for 2 in reply to 438, only for the loss of Gower for 60 and Lamb's strangle down the leg side for 82 to herald a capitulation, culminating in the loss of the final seven wickets for 35 and a request to follow on. 'It was a wretched collapse,' said Willis. 'No one showed the fibre to hang around and halt it.'

Having polished off the tail with three wickets, Thomson then removed Tavaré, horribly out of sorts, for his fourth wicket in twenty-two deliveries. Gower resisted sternly once more, converting his solid start into his first century in thirty-eight Test innings. His fifth Test century was a controlled, responsible effort and his first ton against Australia. According to Robin Marlar he was 'able to maintain that air of superiority and condescension which makes him a formidable competitor when he knows he's playing well'. He added 118 with Botham, who passed 1,000 runs in the year on his way to 58, a statistical achievement that meant little in the context of an eight-wicket loss that left England needing to win the final two Tests to retain the Ashes.

Chappell said his attack 'bowled straighter and gave away less than England's', while Willis claimed that the limit of one bouncer per over in county cricket had left his batsmen unprepared for the hostility of the Australian pacemen. It was clearly going to need something special in Melbourne to keep the series alive. England produced it in one of the greatest Test matches of all time, let alone the decade.

The tourists were without Randall, who had been hit in the face by Michael Holding in a one-day tour match against Tasmania at Launceston – was there no corner of the world where they were safe from the West Indian quicks? Cook took his place, with Tavaré dropping to his preferred number three, while Cowans replaced the spin of Hemmings. A downbeat Willis went into the game concerned that the comments at the team's pre-match meeting – held on Christmas Eve in anticipation of the Boxing Day start – had sounded too familiar to those earlier on tour and miffed that some players remained reluctant to contribute.

Chappell won the toss and continued the series-long pattern of insertions in front of a first-day crowd that took the authorities by surprise. With no more than 50,000 expected, turnstiles were unprepared for the rush and the officially announced attendance of 64,000, which looked like an underestimation, appeared to reflect the confusion.

England's number three was far too phlegmatic to be concerned by a banner in the crowd that said, 'Hey, Tavaré. What's the rush?' but after the loss of three early wickets he and Lamb took only thirty-two overs to compile a partnership of 161. Seemingly liberated by the change in the batting order, Tavaré emerged from his early caution to take the game to the spinners, an ability familiar to those who watched him play one-day cricket for Kent. Once both batsmen were out in the eighties England slid disappointingly to 284 all out. Writing in his diary, Willis said, 'I felt like giving the batsmen a rocket but I have discovered they object to being told their shortcomings. I honestly don't know how long I can go on watching us squander good positions.'

Yet this was one of those Tests where neither side was ever able to establish a clear advantage and England rebounded on the second day to dismiss Australia for 287. It was a breakthrough innings for Cowans, who had Chappell out hooking after capturing the wicket of Dyson one ball earlier, the reward for bowling an improved line and length.

The third day saw England indebted to Botham's quick-fire 46 for shifting momentum after a poor start. A fine 65 from Fowler – batting with a runner after one of Thomson's famous 'sand-shoe crushers' – and resistance down the order took them to 294, leaving Australia two fewer than that to win. Cowans bowled Wessels off his pads and had Chappell caught cheaply again and England were on top.

Yet neither side held sway for long in this game and after Botham removed Dyson just before lunch on the fourth day, a 100 partnership between Hughes and Hookes threatened to be an Ashes-winning contribution. Then Miller prised out Hughes, and Cowans raced in to capture Hookes, Marsh, Yardley and Hogg in quick order, reducing Australia to 218 for 9. With Willis struggling with a fever, the arrival of Cowans as a force in Test cricket could not have been timed better.

Border was forced to go on the counter-attack and Willis set the field to him deep in order to focus on the removal of last man Thomson. The captain attracted criticism for his approach, which allowed Australia to advance to 255 by the close of the fourth day. Willis again chose not to target Border when the new ball was taken on the final morning.

'That whole morning was surreal,' admitted Gower. 'Here we are in a great position in the Test match with just Thommo – get him out and we are done.' But Thomson was going nowhere. Cowans and Willis failed to make the final breakthrough and Australia inched closer, amid unbearable tension on the field and excitement among the 18,000 who had shown up for what might conceivably have been only one ball. England's panic was evidenced by Lamb and substitute fielder Ian Gould running into each other as they tried to prevent another quick single. It was to the great talisman Botham that England turned – 'hoping the sorcerer had something left up his sleeve' as Willis put it. Or, as he said later, 'It wasn't until once again the ball was thrown to "Golden Bollocks" that the deadlock was broken. It really was the last throw of the dice.'

Australia needed only four runs as Botham began his fourth over of the day with a ball that was wide of off stump and angling further toward the slips. Thomson, having acquired perhaps a fatal amount of confidence, had a go at it and edged toward Tavaré at second slip. He could only parry it up and back, but Miller sprung into action from first slip and caught the rebound behind his colleague's back before galloping, arms aloft, to the boundary, team-mates following behind in similar pose. It was a fittingly dramatic way for such an enthralling contest to be decided. At the time it tied the record for the narrowest victory in Test history.

Pringle celebrated by directing V-signs with both hands at the more raucous home fans. 'They were pretty feisty, that crowd,' he said. 'I remember writing about it for _The Telegraph_. I told them the anecdote that they used to shout things like, "The best thing about you, Pringle, is still running down your mother's legs." _The Telegraph_ wouldn't print that. The fans there were famous for being a pretty unsavoury bunch. Ian Gould got a big pie dumped on his head when he was fielding on the boundary in that game. He was a great charmer and he turned round and said, "Steady on, I have just had my Barnet done," and got a laugh out of them. I'd had enough of copping it at that stage.'

More important than the historical significance of the result was that it kept alive England's Ashes hopes. All they needed was to win the final Test at Sydney. Yet they never came close, undermined initially by a first-day umpiring foul-up by Mel Johnson, who inexplicably failed to see Dyson well out of his crease to a throw by the bowler, Willis. 'The Ashes series was settled in the first over,' said Hemmings. Dyson went on to score 79 in a total of 314, of which Border got 89.

England ended the second day on 24 for 3 before Gower and Randall, restored because of Fowler's broken toe after a surprisingly quick recovery from his own misfortune, responded with an attractive stand of 122, each man eventually falling for 70. Gower was as smooth as ever and Randall's innings showed courage against the fast bowlers and nifty footwork against the spin of Yardley. Thomson picked up another five wickets and Australia set about building on a lead of seventy-seven with tentative early steps. Hemmings, preferred to Pringle, extracted turn and thought he had taken Australia's fourth wicket when Hughes appeared to have given a catch to short leg. Inevitably, Hughes made the most of his good fortune, using quick hands to master Hemmings and Miller on a deteriorating pitch to the tune of 139 runs. Sharing a partnership of 149 with Border, he set his team on the way to putting the game beyond England with a lead of 459. With barely more than a day remaining, survival was England's priority. Little did they expect Hemmings to be the man who delivered it.

Having just bowled forty-six overs in Australia's innings and captured three wickets, Hemmings was 'knackered, ready to put my feet up and enjoy a long, cool beer at the end of the day's play'. Suddenly, Willis tapped him on the shoulder and told him that he, not Taylor, should pad up as nightwatchman. Hemmings had never before performed the role and couldn't see the logic in the move. Inevitably, he was called upon, with Cook's second-over dismissal prompting Willis to admit that he probably should have sought someone else to open instead of a man who'd now managed only fifty-four runs in six knocks. By the time Hemmings was out after almost four hours of good judgement and clean hitting he needed only five more for the most unlikely of Test centuries. Having battled on after breaking a bone in his hand shortly after passing 50, Hemmings was furious at the manner of his removal. 'It still rankles that I was robbed of my best chance to make a hundred in a Test,' he said. 'The umpire adjudged I was caught behind by Rod Marsh off Yardley but I swear I never hit the ball.'

Miller and Taylor, under little pressure from the Australians, did enough late in the afternoon to ensure that the series ended only 2-1. Yet Willis admitted that the narrow margin perhaps masked a harsh reality. 'Our limitations had been exposed,' he said. 'Because of the way our side was balanced – or unbalanced – we were forever striving to conjure up things which weren't there.' Damningly, he concluded that 'the biggest let-down of all was Ian Botham' and claimed, 'The quiet word of warning I had with him in Brisbane did not seem to sink in.'

Even so, Willis felt that the press criticism of his team when they arrived home was unduly harsh and was based more on poor one-day performances at the end of the tour than defeat in the Ashes. Much of the disapproval was directed at Willis, who was accused of being too harsh on his players in public and lacking Brearley's empathetic touch. 'Whilst Willis is one of nature's leaders, he is not natural as a captain,' wrote Marlar.

### **Mad World**

To say that the events of early summer 1983 in England changed the face of world cricket is no exaggeration. The third staging of the Prudential-sponsored World Cup might not have done much to reinvigorate the fortunes of the home nation – who went out in the semi-finals – but India's unexpected 43-run win against the seemingly invincible West Indies in the final began that country's love affair with a format of the game it had previously barely acknowledged. With that came the abundance of broadcast and commercial opportunities that helped cement one-day cricket as the most lucrative form of the game in most countries and hastened India's rise as the dominant financial force in the world game. Only eighteen months after India's one-day triumph, England's tourists, especially those who had been to India before, would be shocked at how dramatically attendances at Test matches had dropped off in favour of the shorter game.

Yet barely a year prior to the World Cup, Scyld Berry had noted of India's cricket structure, 'There is a one-day competition, the Wills Trophy, but it does not have the importance to lure cricketers away from the traditional virtues. They remain three- and five-day players.'

The extent to which England made little concession to the different nature of cricket's formats had always been evident in their World Cup selections and fortunes. One-day matches would often be used as a final trial for a potential Test player. Rare was the time that team selection would accommodate the specific needs of the shorter game. England were never likely to chase down the West Indies' total in the 1979 final, for example, once Geoff Boycott and Mike Brearley had spent more than thirty overs in compiling a 129 opening partnership, while stroke-makers Gower, Gooch, Botham and Larkins kicked their heels in the pavilion. The selection of Chris Tavaré as opener in the 1983 tournament, during which his strike rate remained below fifty runs per 100 balls, suggested that little had changed in the England team's approach.

Their position among the tournament favourites was due once again to home advantage – they'd won all four home ODIs in 1982 – and supposed experience in one-day cricket, which offered three domestic competitions. It was certainly nothing to do with their performances during the winter, when they'd finished third behind Australia and New Zealand in the World Series Cricket tournament and then lost all three games in a series in New Zealand, returning home with only four wins from thirteen matches overall.

Head selector Peter May warned, 'I shall be having a strong word with them. The winter showed that second best is not good enough. If we get a very determined attitude I believe we can reach the final.' Yet any determination on the part of the England management to ensure success was well disguised. The squad was named only four days before the tournament began and relied largely on those who had struggled in the winter rather than the adventurous selections the media desired, such as Surrey's Dave Thomas, a fast-bowling left-armer and hard-hitting lower-order batsman.

'This is what England thought of it,' said Graeme Fowler. 'All the teams assembled at Lord's for a massive tournament photograph taken by Patrick Eagar. He went on the balcony and got the teams to stand in lines. Everybody had a tour uniform except England. We were told to buy a suit. Then we all went to Buckingham Palace. I was introduced to the Queen and she actually said to me, "Why don't you have a uniform?" How embarrassing is that? That is what they thought of one-day cricket at that time.'

Such preparation as there was suffered disruption when, on the eve of the tournament, Botham was called in for what were inevitably called 'crisis talks' with May and Willis over his refusal to stop writing for _The Sun_. He had been fined £200 in January for comments about the umpiring in Australia, which led to the TCCB banning all players from writing articles during the World Cup. Botham, however, insisted that his contract with the newspaper was in place before the TCCB tried to impose its ban and had no intention of breaking it. 'All I have ever done in my articles is promote the game,' he argued. Faced with leaving Botham out or backing down, the TCCB – influenced, some suggested, by the wishes of the players – allowed him to take his place. 'When the climb down is announced today he will certainly appear bigger than the game,' one reporter declared. May hinted that the competition rules might have saved Botham when he said, 'It is very sad, particularly as it has all arisen after we could not change our squad.'

Other players were now free, of course, to write their own articles during the event. With the World Cup beginning on the same day as Margaret Thatcher went to the polls to win her second term it was an appropriately-timed victory for free enterprise.

For the first time the tournament called for teams in the two four-country groups to face each other twice, partly for greater financial benefit but also to lessen the chance of weather disadvantaging anyone through loss of matches. To the continued delight of conspiracy theorists, the draw appeared to have been kind to England, keeping them away from the West Indies in the group stages for the third successive tournament and avoiding Australia for the second time in three.

Instead, they opened with one-sided victories against each of their group rivals, beginning with a 106-run defeat of New Zealand at The Oval, inspired by Allan Lamb's 103 off 102 balls and a 203-run acceleration over the final twenty-five overs. David Gower was too much for the modest Sri Lanka attack to handle at Taunton, where he hit five sixes in his innings of 130 and was supported by another half-century by Lamb. Vic Marks then took five wickets and Graham Dilley four as England eased to victory.

Against Pakistan at Lord's, Willis took two early wickets to undermine the batting side's efforts before Graeme Fowler's calm unbeaten 78 complemented the elegance of Gower and the hitting of Lamb as England reached their target of 194.

Gower was unbeaten on 92 and Fowler contributed another good 69 in a below-par total of 234 against New Zealand at Edgbaston, but Willis's early strikes made it appear enough to win. The assured batting of Geoff Howarth and Jeremy Coney turned things around and when Jeff Bracewell struck the penultimate ball for four the victory was New Zealand's. Television viewers were spared any disappointment by the industrial action taken by BBC broadcasting staff, whose protest at reduced overnight allowances kept the game off the air.

It was only a minor detour on England's smooth passage to the semifinals, which they resumed with a seven-wicket win over Pakistan at Old Trafford. A target of 226 was within easy reach after an opening partnership of 115 between Fowler (69) and Tavare (58). Finally, having bowled out Sri Lanka for 136, England needed only 24.1 overs to achieve a nine-wicket win as Fowler hit an unbeaten 81, his fourth half-century in six games.

Big one-day games at Old Trafford in the first couple of decades of the format offered an excitement and atmosphere all of their own and a buzz of heightened anticipation greeted the England batsmen as they began their innings in the semi-final. India had begun the tournament with a shock victory over the West Indies, which helped to propel them out of the group stages for the first time in a World Cup, yet the hosts were confidently expected to advance to a rematch of the 1979 final.

But a slow wicket made it difficult for England to kick on against the medium-pacers once Fowler and Tavaré had made a decent start, 69 for 0 in the seventeenth over. 'It was more Mumbai than Manchester,' Paul Allott remembered. Helped by some good running, Tavaré stood upright and punished anything short while Fowler leaned into some nice leg-side shots. But having overcome the menace of Kapil Dev, both fell in the thirties to the innocuous Roger Binny. At 100 for 2, Gower was the victim of one of his infuriating flat-footed wafts but the biggest blow was when Lamb, slow off the mark after sweeping Kirti Azad, was run out by a direct throw. It needed some streaky blows by Dilley to take England to 213.

Mohinder Amarnath (46) and Yashpal Sharma (61) shared a 92-run stand to guide India towards their target, although Sharma looked on television replays not to have beaten the throw of Gatting early in the partnership and Amarnath escaped when Randall sportingly said he had not taken a catch cleanly at mid-wicket. Sandeep Patil's joyfully-struck unbeaten 51 off 32 balls ensured no scares as India won with more than five overs remaining. Not even Botham had been able to rescue the situation. As he came on to bowl late in the innings, Ted Dexter remarked on BBC, 'This is the man who used to get England out of trouble every time. He hasn't done it for a while.'

The final runs were scored with the farcical sight of all England's players on the off side so as to charge back to the pavilion before the invasion of jubilant Indian supporters engulfed them. Regrettably, the post-match presentations were accompanied by scuffles among fans in front of the pavilion.

## **9
SOMEBODY'S WATCHING ME**

'The press–player relationship in cricket has been severely damaged and I honestly don't know how the pieces can be picked up' – Bob Willis after the 1983-84 tour

OF all the dismal detours on England's passage through the 1980s, the events of the 1983-84 winter rank among the gloomiest. The tour of New Zealand and Pakistan 'has claims to rank among the unhappiest they have ever undertaken', noted _Wisden_. Bob Willis's team suffered their first-ever series defeats against each of their hosts – including a humiliating two-day defeat in Christchurch – and were on the receiving end of accusations of drug-taking and night-time romps by national newspapers.

The first rumblings of misdeeds came on 9 January when the _Daily Express_ offered readers the story of Ian Brooks, chief executive of a computer firm and a Middlesex CCC member. Brooks telexed the newspaper to complain about the England players' behaviour in their hotel, claiming, 'I have never seen a bout of drinking to match what has been going on here. It is not so much the celebrations as the surly behaviour of Allan Lamb, Ian Botham and the like.'

Tour manager Alan Smith's investigation unearthed nothing of undue concern and Willis subsequently asserted that all the players left the bar when it closed at 11pm. 'Cinderella stuff without the slightest substance,' was his description. Yet the tone of the tour had been set and far more serious allegations were on their way.

'It was all a great shame and all ironically a case of mistaken identity that set it all off,' Willis recalled. 'I happened to be with Ian and Lamby the night they were accused of abusing this man in Auckland. In fact it was two other guys, New Zealanders we had been having a drink with in the hotel bar, who abused this guy. I remember Pat Gibson of the _Daily Express_ and Peter Smith of the _Daily Mail_ were very sympathetic but their editors wanted blood.'

David Gower admitted sardonically, 'There was a passing resemblance, for a blind man in a dark room with the lights turned off. The press picked up on that and made a meal out of it. Ironically we got to know the guys and they turned out to be good, sociable people. We had a party later on a hill in Wellington where they lived and they made amends for getting the whole thing going.'

The first Test of the winter gave little hint of the trauma to come, even though England's failure to press home a first-innings lead of 244 was disappointing. Rain had not only messed up three days of England practice, but made the Wellington pitch helpful to the bowlers, with Botham cashing in with five wickets and Willis surpassing Fred Trueman as England's leading wicket-taker during New Zealand's 212 all out.

Botham then launched a typical counter-attack to rescue his team from a precarious 115 for 5. Surviving chances at regular intervals, including one before he had got off the mark, he belted his way to 138 off 167 balls, his thirteenth Test century and a record fifth time he'd reached three figures in the same game as recording a five-wicket innings. 'Vintage Botham – dominating proceedings as we all know he can,' said Willis, who was also delighted to see his faith in Derek Randall rewarded. Having shared a partnership of 202 with Botham, Randall was last out with the score on 463 after scoring 164, his sixth Test hundred. It was a compact effort in which he rarely gave the bowlers a hint of a dismissal. 'Derek remains a much criticised player and would not be in the England sides of many armchair critics,' Willis acknowledged. The captain was less impressed at receiving a barrage of bouncers from Hadlee, who he felt was responsible for 'a pathetic piece of cricket'.

England had more than two days to secure victory but Martin Crowe, on day four, and Jeremy Coney, on the last day, denied them. Crowe fully deserved his first hundred at the highest level, driving fluently and defending with maturity beyond his twenty-one years. Coney's knock was particularly frustrating for England, deprived of victory by a man who'd not scored a century for seven years. His 488-minute rearguard brought him an unbeaten 174.

If Wellington was disappointing, then Christchurch was disgraceful. To start with, New Zealand were allowed to score 307 – about 100 more than most observers thought was par for the pitch – by what Willis told his team was the worst bowling he had seen in any Test he'd played in. But it looked world-class compared with the batting. In crumbling for 82 and 93 England were dismissed for less than 100 in both innings for the first time since the previous century.

Hadlee was the main destroyer of England's bowling, smashing 99 off 81 balls. He was particularly harsh when Botham dropped short and punished the tiring Tony Pigott, who had taken a wicket in his second over after being pitched into his first Test because Dilley was suffering from blisters and Neil Foster had hurt his foot batting in the nets. A day earlier, the Sussex seamer had been playing for Wellington in the Shell Trophy and agreed to delay his planned wedding in order to take advantage of what turned out to be a once-in-a lifetime opportunity.

Noting the width he was given by the England bowlers, Hadlee recalled, 'It allowed me to play the way I liked to play and attack the ball. I just flayed it everywhere and just kept chasing it.' Willis, who had bowled a decent opening spell and ended with four wickets, was particularly critical of Botham, calling him 'unbelievably bad', and felt that the home side's total was 'utterly ridiculous in these conditions'.

The dismissal of Fowler, recalled in place of Chris Smith, before stumps on the first day added to the feeling that England might pay for their generosity. Even so, the manner of their defeat in less than two days' worth of playing time was pitiful. 'We bowled normal line and length, consistent-type bowling,' according to Hadlee. 'The England batting was a little bit inadequate. The wicket wasn't as bad as they made out.'

Having waited until after tea to begin the second day because of rain, England lost six wickets in the session as Hadlee and Chatfield showed how to make best use of a cracked and damp pitch. 'By teatime I was disappointed by the obvious lethargy creeping into some of our blokes,' said Willis. 'Some seemed more interested in the sandwiches than the cricket.'

England were 10 for 4 after Hadlee had removed Gower, padding up, and Randall, edging behind, in the space of three deliveries. Eventually asked to follow on with a deficit of 225, the tourists crashed to 33 for 6, with Hadlee on his way to another five-wicket haul and the home team's fielders outstanding in their close catching. Only a stand of 39 between Randall and Taylor nudged England past their lowest total against New Zealand. The harsh words Willis had delivered to the batsmen after the pre-Test game in Otago, where he had been concerned about their levels of concentration and application, had clearly gone unheeded.

'It was obvious England weren't tuned in,' said New Zealand's Lance Cairns. 'They didn't want to play; they would rather be back at the hotel. They just gave it away.' Suggestions would soon emerge of something more sinister than a sloppy attitude.

Umpire Fred Goodall recalled years later, 'The crowd couldn't believe it when wickets kept tumbling. I have a vivid memory of Ian Botham coming out to bat and playing a shot off his pads – the ball came in close to his pads. He got the bat on it, just trapped down at the last minute and it got caught close in by one of the New Zealand fieldsmen. He laughed; he just laughed.'

In truth, it was more of a rueful smile on Botham's part, but Goodall continued, 'Nobody at that ground could understand why the English were batting like this. At the end of the match certain enquiries were made and the two umpires got involved. We were both interviewed by the police and I had to swear a statement that at no stage in the game had I noticed anything untoward happening in the English dressing room. As Botham said years later on in his book, there had been certain smoking going on.'

When the allegations of unbecoming behaviour began coming thick and fast a few weeks later, there would even be suggestions of England players smoking pot at the Christchurch ground. 'There was a little bit of wacky baccy on that tour,' Gower admitted in his most recent autobiography, but called it 'total rubbish' to suggest it had been taken in the dressing room. Willis called the notion 'absolutely absurd' while Nick Cook echoed, 'There was a lot of rubbish spoken about drugs in the dressing room. I never saw any of that.'

New Zealand duly achieved a draw at Auckland to gain their historic series win. On a lifeless pitch that always threatened the likelihood of a result, the home team took advantage of winning the toss by scoring 496, putting salvation of the series beyond their opponents. John Wright, Jeff Crowe and wicketkeeper Ian Smith all scored centuries, before England – after losing Fowler first ball – responded with another hundred by Randall and 91 by Smith, who was caught behind with a first Test hundred seemingly in his grasp. Smith had replaced Tavaré and set about proving himself from the same mould by taking 396 balls to achieve what would remain his best Test score. Not that many folks back home were paying attention, being too wrapped up in Torvill and Dean Bolero-ing their way to Olympic gold. Botham's last-day 70, including ten fours and a pair of sixes, at least enlivened the game's final stages.

Among the England supporters in New Zealand had been Elton John, at whose concerts some of the team became a frequent presence, watching the shows from backstage and enjoying the occasional champagne breakfast with the singer's entourage. All harmless enough. But once the team had departed for Pakistan, the stories hitting the English press presented the players' off-duty hours in a rather different light.

The day after England were beaten in the first Test in Karachi, the _Daily Express_ reported that a window had been broken in a hotel room occupied by Botham and Lamb in Hamilton. 'It is true there was a breakage but the damage was paid for promptly and everyone appeared to have forgotten about this very minor upset,' Willis countered, insisting that the newspaper had 'spiced it up with all kinds of innuendoes'.

Lamb explained that the window was broken when he and Botham, without keys, broke back into their room. He also denied stories alleging the involvement of a girl in the escapade. 'Yes we'd had a few and, yes, we had a bit of a party but that was it,' he stated.

Willis saw such stories as an attempt to 'kick a team when they are down' but the truth is that the tabloids were entering an age where such gossip was considered juicy regardless of results on the field. 'I have warned all the lads to be very wary and I feel sorry for them,' Willis wrote in his diary a day later. The skipper then heard 'talk that they are trying to pin a drugs scandal on certain members of the side'.

On 10 March, _Daily Express_ reporter Philippa Kennedy published an interview with an Auckland cricket official, who claimed the England players 'seemed to think they were on holiday'. He continued, 'It was just one big party. I don't know how they had anything left for the game. This side were unprofessional.' Meanwhile, an official who was happy to be identified, Canterbury Cricket Association liaison officer David Heard, called the team 'gentlemen; a pleasure to look after'.

There was more. Kennedy found a woman – 'attractive, in her thirties' – who had attended a party twenty-four hours before the third Test in Auckland. 'About six of the team were there,' the woman stated. 'It was a beautiful house at the foot of a volcano with swimming pool and Jacuzzi – you name it. One of the English team arrived later – stoned out of his mind – and not on drink. He lay down with his head against a speaker and insisted on playing Bob Dylan records all night.' To even things out, she also recalled a New Zealand player falling through a glass table.

There were allegations of dope-smoking at a Pretenders concert, to which Botham would respond by saying the players had actually been forced to smuggle tequila into the event in containers of orange juice. Then there was the story of a party before the one-day international in Auckland, where a girl was asked to go to bed by an England player – probably not the wildest revelation when discussing a group of young, athletic males on tour. 'He asked me what I was at the party for if I didn't want to go to bed with one of the team,' the girl said.

A twenty-two-year-old named as Raewyn Flay, told a second-hand tale of a 'groupie' who'd informed her that the players chased women and some smoked pot, putting damp towels under their doors to stop the fumes escaping and chewing parsley to clear their breath. She was described as having taken part in 'high jinx' with England players in Hamilton.

By now even _Daily Telegraph_ cricket writer Michael Carey was accusing the players of failing to give value for money to their employers. 'Every night seems like Saturday night,' he wrote. The trip was quickly becoming known in the media as the 'Sex, Drugs and Rock 'n' Roll Tour' – a not entirely inaccurate description. 'I can't speak personally about the drugs,' said Gower, 'I would keep a diplomatic silence on the sex; and rock and roll is, of course, free to all.'

Somewhat coyly, he continued, 'The tour was incredibly... well, it was great fun actually. Those that could, made the most of it. Touring is a sociable activity. There are the twin elements of obviously doing your best to get your personal performance and results right, but in amongst that, if you are a young man in somewhere like Australia and New Zealand, there are opportunities. They are both very sociable places and it would be criminal in my book not to take advantage and to go out and meet people. But there is balance to everything. New Zealand is a lovely place to visit, even without a whiff of scandal. The big change was the way the media at large treated it. The _Mail on Sunday_ on Beefy was extraordinary.'

As well as naming Botham in a 'drugs sensation', that newspaper presented the story of journalist Mary Burgess, aged twenty-four, who said of an encounter with England's star player, 'I looked into his eyes and thought, "Wow!" He looked straight through me. He was spaced out – his eyes were down in his cheeks.' She had, incidentally, gone uninvited to his room, where she had found him innocently watching _From Here to Eternity_. Rock 'n' roll indeed.

Botham acknowledged that he was 'caught in the middle of the tabloid war that was raging at the time' – a conflict being fought on battlegrounds raging from 'kiss and tell' stories to the new phenomenon of 'bingo' games with their promises of instant millionaires. He'd already been subjected to journalistic exaggeration, with _The Sun_ forced to apologise in print after describing harmless banter with Rodney Hogg a year earlier as a brawl.

He'd also been so angry at the newspapers reporting that his wife, Kath, had lost the baby she had been carrying that he had refused to speak after his Trent Bridge century against New Zealand the previous summer. He had even thrown a deckchair through the window of the empty Taunton press box.

Now he felt that every drink could lead to accusations of drunkenness or alcoholism; every party a potential orgy. 'These scums of the earth who had flown out to join the cricket correspondents but were in the main operating separately from them, got up to such amazing tricks in search of their stories it would have been funny if they weren't so serious,' he would write later.

Willis, Smith and Gifford assured anyone who would listen that their own enquiries led them to believe that the various accusations were 'fabrications'. Smith added, 'I found absolutely nothing substantiated. I deplore current attempts to unsettle members of the team', again mistaking journalistic desire for a story – however unpalatable – as a deliberate attempt to destabilise the team. Like the average newshound could care less whether England were winning or losing in Pakistan.

Three decades on, Nick Cook said, 'There was a bit of truth in it all, an element, but not as much as it was made out to be,' and Fowler joked, 'I could tell you the truth, but I'd have to kill you. The best way to put it is that we knew how to relax away from the game.'

Willis summed it up like this, 'Guys on tour are guys on tour. It has always been wine, women and song and hopefully will ever be, but I think they are much more tightly monitored now. That was the way of the world in those days. It didn't seem much different to any other tour I have been on.'

Botham himself would admit in his 1995 autobiography that there were times that players 'need a release'. He added, 'Some find it in drink and, on occasions, some find it in female company... I found my escape in the occasional joint.'

Lamb, who would also admit that he 'dabbled here and there with pot', argued, 'The behaviour of the players on that tour was little different from any of the other eight tours I have been on.' He even recalled that Gifford, recently a player himself, would quietly ensure that Lamb and Botham were up on time if he knew they'd had a heavy night.

Of course, the notable thing in all of this is not the revelation that boys could be boys away from home, but – for the first time, and to the horror of the players – there were reporters on hand whose intention was to write about it rather than turn a blind eye in the manner of generations of cricket writers. 'It became a bit of a siege mentality,' Willis continued. 'Not with the old cricket press, but there were people jumping into the lift with players trying to pick up gossip and everyone was on their guard. It didn't make for such a relaxed atmosphere.'

The 1980s was a different place. In an age before multiple television channels ushered in the age of the vacuous 'reality television' stars, fame and celebrity had to be earned by talent and achievements. As the tabloids' increasing appetite for celebrity gossip grew beyond the available pool of actors, singers and footballers, so cricketers now appeared to offer the kind of decadent lifestyle that editors believed their customers craved to read about. Just as the cult of George Best had helped take members of his profession from their quiet suburban existences into the glare of the paparazzi, so the personality and apparent peccadillos of Botham were now moving international cricketers into a new neighbourhood, one with a camera and notebook on every corner.

'It was extraordinary,' said Paul Downton. 'When Beefy signed up for _The Sun_ it increased the profile of cricket enormously and brought more attention to the game, but the downside was he became fair game for every other newspaper and it brought a celebrity the game hadn't really had before. It changed forever for good and bad. It certainly became less enjoyable from a touring point of view.'

'New Zealand was the crossover tour,' was Fowler's description. 'Before that, the only thing written about was the cricket. After that it was open season.'

John Emburey, who would discover how much the environment had changed while he was serving his three-year Test ban, suggested, 'That was purely because of Ian. It became a war between the tabloids and became more intrusive on the players and things changed for everybody. We were targets. It made touring not as enjoyable, and I believe that players should enjoy themselves off the field. I don't mean partying or womanising but being able to go to a restaurant, to a bar, have a couple of bloody drinks and get drunk – as long as you pick your time and don't do it during a Test match. It shouldn't be a problem as long as they perform on the field. Sometimes some of those news guys should have seen what the press were up to!'

Some cricketers were, of course, happy enough to accept money from various publications in return for columns offering their thoughts on the game and whatever dressing-room snippets the player deemed acceptable for the public domain. Far from accepting that such a situation might be viewed as making them fair game for the media – living and dying by the sword, and all that – some players felt it should have afforded them some protection. Yet the ghost-writers of columns were in no position to gag their own paper's news gatherers. In fact, they were often expected to contribute their own eye-witness accounts.

Fowler continued, 'Even the cricket journalists were absolutely horrified. Those guys were under an awful lot of pressure from their editors, who would ask, "If they have got the story, why haven't we?" It was a very different time for the journalists as well as the players; all the night phone calls going backward and forwards. It was ridiculous.

'I don't think there were many easy relationships between players and press anyway. Somebody would stick their head around the door and say that one of the papers wanted an interview and we'd say, "Tell him to fuck off." There were some lovely journalists, but the relationship from cricketer to journalist was quite poor, even though the relationship from man to man was quite good. But that was the turning point in journalism. They had never written stories about what we got up to at night.'

Journalist Jack Bannister, who as an ex-cricketer was well placed to offer some objectivity, would remind the players of the reality of their new world when he wrote in the TCCB's promotional publication, _Cricket '85_ :

The innate suspicion of the media ingrained in players and administrators alike since the invention of the typewriter has now increased to a level not too far short of paranoia. For instance, in the 1984 series against the West Indies, there were at least two instances of England players refusing to speak officially to the media after each had achieved an outstanding performance. These incidents marked the low point of a relationship between players and media which has steadily deteriorated in recent years.

The name players can't expect to receive the vastly increased rewards (compared with those of ten years ago) without forfeiting at least some of the privacy of that era. Their privacy is NOT sacrosanct and only if they appreciate that the genuine cricket writer protects them on tour to a degree which, in the past, has landed some of them in trouble back at base, will a working relationship be possible.

The two groups, journalists and players, had always been close enough that one of the traditions of Christmas Days on tour was that before the players went off to their fancy dress party lunch reporters would perform a show, in which they would present sketches and songs poking gentle fun at the players and tour management. Such conventions would endure for a while, but according to Gower, 'After that New Zealand tour the dynamics of touring became completely different' and elder statesmen among the traditional cricket writers, such as Peter Smith, would offer advice to players on how to avoid making the headlines for the wrong reasons.

When Gower was asked by reporters prior to the 1984-85 tour of India how he would control his players' off-field behaviour his response was that it depended on how editors controlled the imaginations of their reporters.

The new atmosphere would be experienced a further year later by writer Frances Edmonds, wife of Phil, during another ill-fated tour of the Caribbean. 'It is pointless to pretend that three and four month tours are not going to involve a fair amount of hanky panky,' she reported. 'The regular press corps turn a very blind eye to what goes on with any degree of discretion... it is touchingly surprising how desperately discreet and paternally protective the genuine cricket correspondents are.' She would conclude that 'the stories of sex, drugs and drink are wildly exaggerated'.

Emburey said of that tour, 'I don't think that there was one of us who didn't feel uncomfortable. It was impossible to have an informal chat or go out for a meal without forever looking over one's shoulder. Sanity seemed to desert even some of our best and most respected writers.'

Away from the cameras, the stories from the New Zealand tour had an impact hidden from reporters yet felt deeply in the family home. Lamb's wife Lindsay would write candidly in a chapter in his 1996 autobiography, 'It would be dishonest to say that things didn't change after the tour of New Zealand.' She continued, 'I was shattered when all sorts of rumours started to come out... it was the sex stories that tore me apart... I was not so much bothered whether it was true or not, I just couldn't take it being all over the front pages.'

Gower suggested that the impact of tittle-tattle 'depends on the individual'. He continued, 'It would affect certain players. You are literally on the other side of the world and some were married and the implications were that you have got a wife back in the UK who is thinking, "I wonder if my husband is having a jolly time over there." It adds stress and pressure to a player. It depends on the strength of character involved and the strength of relationship. Others would get on and play; for others it might be a distraction. But it is not as though everyone was out like a feral pack every night of the tour. It is bits of this, bits of that and once you cook it up into a good story it sounds like more of that than this'.

Willis recalled, 'Once the news reporters started arriving, Mrs Botham and Mrs Lamb were on the phone to me saying, "These men are camped out in my garden. What can I do?" It was not the sort of pressure you want when you are trying to skipper your national team.'

The bottom line on events in New Zealand was a report by Auckland's district police commander, Brian Davies, highlighting the dangers of 'witnesses' who had been paid for stories. It stated, 'We have found that much of what was reported seems to have been founded in rumour and speculation, which upon proper investigation has evaporated in a mishmash of contradiction and uncorroborated allegations.'

In some respects, however, the damage had already been done. Lindsay Lamb would go as far as saying that she lost trust in her husband and added, 'I would take Lamby to the cleaners if it happened again.' She concluded with the warning that players' wives should go on tour wherever possible because 'if you don't keep your husband's bed warm at night, somebody else might'.

Botham returned home from Pakistan, clutching a letter of explanation from Lamb to Lindsay – which he initially forgot to deliver – in time to witness the fall-out from the tabloid tales. Having suffered a knee injury that ended his streak of sixty-five consecutive games after the first Test, he was soon creating more news. He announced in a radio interview, 'I hope I never have to play in Pakistan again. I think it's a place to send your mother-in-law for a month.' With England still in the midst of the series it created more problems for the tour management and Botham was eventually fined £1,000 by the TCCB. Pakistan bowler Sarfraz Nawaz responded more quickly, with an accusation that Botham had played in the first Test under the influence of drugs. Botham shot back, saying that he preferred a pint and describing such comments as 'the tirade of a madman under the influence of dope'. It was not exactly UN-style international diplomacy.

In among all the muck-raking and dirt-throwing some cricket had been played, with this winter's schedule significant in that it offered a glimpse into the future, consisting almost entirely of international matches and little in the way of warm-ups. In fact, in a move that modern English administrators have come to recognise as short-sighted, the tourists were pitched straight into the first Test in Karachi sixty hours after arriving – ten hours late – in the country. Denied proper preparation in conditions that could hardly have been more different to New Zealand, it was unsurprising that they were bowled out twice under 200 on their way to a first Test defeat in Pakistan.

The players themselves had requested that the Pakistan leg of the tour be kept as short as possible. Willis, never slow to admonish administrators for daft scheduling in his modern role as a Sky Sports pundit, had argued that the players were no more at risk through lack of practice than they were by playing a rural warm-up game and picking up stomach upsets. It was hardly the most enlightened view ever expressed by an England captain, but as if to prove his point it was he who would fall foul of ill-health late in the tour.

Willis discussed the difficult balancing act in his account of the tour, in which he spoke of the 'difficulty English players find in adjusting to this type of disjointed itinerary. At home, we are used to playing matches virtually every day of the season; here, the routine is constant nets and frequent international cricket, but precious little in between.' Yet it was what his players had desired and, he believed, left no excuse for unhelpful antics such as Botham and Dilley bowling and batting wrong-handed in the nets. 'When the press write about such behaviour it will be me who takes the rap,' he complained. Acknowledging that 'for English pros, constant nets are an unfamiliar chore', he added, 'It has recently been the players who have spoken out strongly in favour of shorter tours. They cannot have it both ways.'

Winning the toss in the first Test, a cautious England, who opened with Gatting, reached 90 for the loss of one wicket by tea. But then a couple of breakthroughs by the wily Sarfraz allowed Abdul Qadir to wrap his leg-spinners around unprepared opposition. He took five wickets to bowl England out for 182, with only Gower, whose application and left-handed stance helped him counteract the threat, able to reach a half-century.

Happily for England, Cook was no less effective, reducing Pakistan to 136 for 6 on his way to a Test-best 6 for 65, having been omitted for the final two Tests in New Zealand. Yet his dropped return catch off Qadir prefaced a stand of 75 between the spinner and Saleem Malik and Pakistan achieved an important lead of ninety-five. Again it was only Gower, with another fifty, who appeared equipped to prosper against the home bowlers.

Left to score only 65 to win, Pakistan did their best to mess things up. A panic-stricken procession of batsmen fell to Cook, who took his match total to eleven wickets – thirty-two in his first four Tests – before the hosts stumbled their way across the finish line with three wickets in hand.

As always in the subcontinent, defeat early in the series meant an almost impossible uphill climb ahead on dull, lifeless pitches – which made the headlong dash into the first Test even more ill-advised. Honour was restored in the final two games, but never did England look likely to rescue the series.

Gower continued to shine, his big centuries even more creditable given that they carried with them the extra burden of captaincy after Willis withdrew with food poisoning. England's batting was under even more pressure in the second Test in Faisalabad where Cowans, ruled out with a groin injury, joined Botham as an absentee.

Pakistan took a depleted England attack for 449 runs, with centuries for Saleem Malik and Wasim Raja, before England set about saving the game with a 127-run opening partnership between Smith (66) and Gatting (75), promoted again to cover for Fowler's illness. Gower played an untroubled seven-hour innings, sharing century partnerships with Randall (65) and Marks (83) on his way to 152.

At Lahore, England were asked to bat and needed a sixth-wicket stand of 120 between Fowler and Marks to lift them to 241. That Pakistan were able to achieve a first-innings lead of 102 was due partly to the experienced pair of Zaheer – batting with a runner because of a leg injury – and Sarfraz, who came together at 181 for 8 in the face of fine bowling by Foster. They proceeded to add 161, Zaheer swatting the ball on one leg and Sarfraz becoming more daring as he rattled up 90, double his previous highest Test score.

Having helped Gatting add 137 for England's third wicket when they batted again, Gower needed to call upon his considerable skill once more after a quick flurry of middle-order wickets. Finding more solid support in a third successive half-century from Marks, unspectacular in his bowling but proving himself a productive number seven, Gower dealt with the leg-spin of Qadir and Raja with no more fuss than an office filing clerk. He picked up the tempo sufficiently to declare at 344 for 9 when he stood unbeaten on 173.

An opening stand of 122 between Shoaib Mohammad and Mohsin Khan represented a considerable stride towards a victory target of 243 and when Shoaib fell to Cowans for 80 only 70 were needed at five runs per over. But, as in the first Test, a mist of panic and confusion descended on the batsmen, three of whom were out in a single over to Cowans, who finished with 5 for 42. With six wickets having fallen in quick succession, including Mohsin after a four-hour century, Pakistan settled for a draw to clinch the series.

## **10
IT'S A HARD LIFE**

'The thing that is in Room 101 is the worst thing in the world' – George Orwell, _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ (1949)

THE George Orwell novel _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ has become known in modern culture for, as much as anything else, the existence of Room 101, the place where victims are confronted by their worst nightmares. By the end of the year that inspired the book most English cricketers would have found their West Indian counterparts occupying that chamber of horror.

Five Tests, five heavy defeats – two by an innings, one by 172 runs and the others by eight and nine wickets – was about as emphatic as you could get and prompted discussion of whether this West Indian team could be ranked alongside the Australian 'Invincibles' of 1948 as possibly the greatest team in the sport's history. The summer even spawned a record, 'N-N-Nineteen Not Out', in which impressionist Rory Bremner parodied Paul Hardcastle's number-one hit, '19'. Where Hardcastle used a techno beat and documentary-style commentary to highlight the average age of American soldiers in the Vietnam War, Bremner mimicked a range of BBC commentators to reference the combat zone in which England's batsmen found themselves and the miserable average – conveniently nineteen exactly – achieved by captain David Gower. YouTube it, kids.

What distinguished this West Indian team was that they were in the middle of their two-decade period of pace-based dominance. Helmets now offered some protection against the fast bowlers but there was still much physical damage inflicted on the way to what was coined as a 'blackwash' by the West Indians' exuberant fans. The bowlers might only have suffered bruised egos, but the beating they took, such as on the final day at Lord's in the second Test, left deep scars of a different kind.

As Ian Botham had discovered four years earlier, Gower could not have been offered a tougher introduction to England captaincy. His task appeared as daunting – albeit in a less serious environment – as that of union leader Arthur Scargill, who that spring called out his members on strike in protest at the inexorable erosion of the mining industry. While Scargill's defeat would be dragged out over a cruel, devastating twelve months, the West Indians administered swift execution. It left no one much the wiser about Gower's suitability for leadership.

Gower had taken over in full knowledge that public opinion of the team following the lurid tales of the winter was little higher than that of the miners in a typical cricket committee room in the south of England. 'I recognise that we have lost some of the goodwill of the man in the street,' he confessed. 'Application, patience, resolution – that's what I shall be looking for from my team.'

Patience would also be needed at times by the Test crowds. The West Indies refused to agree to a minimum number of overs per day but, with both teams meandering along at around thirteen and a half per hour, they were no more responsible for the go-slow than England, whose interests were usually served by delaying the action as much as possible.

That was certainly the case at Edgbaston, where an overwhelming West Indies victory was set in motion by Gower's decision to bat first; a choice that appeared to be necessitated by the inclusion of two spinners, Nick Cook and Geoff Miller. Lloyd was able to unleash his fast bowlers upon the early moisture – as he usually preferred – and watched England succumb for 191.

Warwickshire opener Andy Lloyd, one of four players who had not toured during the previous winter, was felled by a Malcolm Marshall bouncer in only the seventh over and would never bat for England again. Selected after a moderately successful Texaco Trophy series, in which he top-scored with 49 in England's one win in the three games, he had been looking assured enough on his five-day debut when he was struck on the earpiece of his helmet. Graeme Fowler, in the dressing room with two closed doors between him and the playing arena, recalled hearing the crack of contact.

'He bowled me a short-pitched ball which I expected would fly over my shoulder, but it kept low, swung back and I turned into it,' explained Lloyd, who spent ten days in hospital with blurred vision. 'My season was over. My right eye was damaged and had I been hit again it could have jeopardised my recovery.'

Botham, dropped early on his way to hitting ten fours in his 64, dragged England up to a total that still fell a long way short of being competitive. Then Willis's feat of removing Greenidge and Haynes in quick succession hastened the arrival of Richards, now occupying the number four position behind the more modest talents of former Middlesex left-hander Larry Gomes. Richards, an England nemesis since 1976, had been in magnificent form already on the tour, an unbeaten 189 in his side's 272 for 9 in the first one-day international at Old Trafford still considered one of the greatest innings in any form of cricket. On that memorable day he'd made 93 out of a last-wicket partnership of 106 with Holding and finished up with twenty-one fours and five sixes.

At Edgbaston, suffering from an upset stomach, he was more restrained and sometimes even played scruffily among the usual array of flicks and pulls to leg. But still he compiled an inevitable hundred, sharing a third-wicket partnership of 206 with Gomes.

'I remember the team dinner at Edgbaston,' said Derek Pringle. 'The plan was that if you didn't get Viv out before he got to ten, you have to bowl eight inches outside off stump. I bowled a ball that was probably ten inches wide and he whipped it over square leg. Gower ran up and said, "Remember the plan." I said, "David, ask the keeper. That was well outside off stump." He could make a mockery of anybody.'

Gomes, unflappable and most un-Caribbean in his method of accumulation, progressed to 143 and shared another century stand with Lloyd. Just when the England bowlers thought it was safe to grab the ball, Eldine Baptiste (87) and Michael Holding (69) crashed their way to a 150 partnership in less than two hours.

Needing 415 to avoid an innings defeat, England were all out for 235. Emergency opener Paul Downton battled for almost five hours for a deserved half-century and Joel Garner made progress towards becoming the leading wicket-taker in the series by adding five victims to his four in the first innings.

The second Test at Lord's saw England competitive, and even on top, for the first four days but the match would forever be remembered for a final-day onslaught by Greenidge that gave the West Indies a spectacular nine-wicket victory.

Nottinghamshire opener Chris Broad, making his debut and displaying obvious strength on the leg side, helped Fowler begin the match with a century stand. After Broad fell for 55, Fowler battled on to reach three figures, scoring fourteen fours in a six-hour innings of 106 that he puts partly down to the benefits of Guinness. 'I knew this would be my last Test unless I got some runs,' he said, recalling the night before the match. 'At half past three in the morning I couldn't sleep so I rang for the night porter to bring me three pints of Guinness.' Having ended a weather-shortened first day on 70 not out, he repeated the dose that night.

The West Indies, spearheaded by Marshall's five wickets, restricted England to 286, which turned out to be forty-one more than they managed themselves. Botham, looking more menacing than for three years, swung the ball both ways and extracted bounce and pace to fire out the first three batsmen. Richards threatened to turn the game, but Botham trapped him for 72 on the third day with a quick ball that stayed low and then dismissed Lloyd in similar fashion on his way to his best figures (8 for 103) since destroying Pakistan on the same ground six years earlier. Sadly for a skipper who relied upon him heavily among the comings and goings of England's other seamers, it was only a sporadic return to his best form.

Allan Lamb and Mike Gatting corrected a faltering start to England's second innings before Gatting was out padding up for the second time in the match, an unexpected misjudgement from someone who played his county cricket on the Lord's slope. Botham and Lamb, who reached his fourth Test hundred, maintained the initiative and their partnership was worth 128 when the all-rounder was out for an 81 full of lumberjack-style swings.

Seven wickets down but leading by 328 with about an hour left on the fourth day, England's batsmen shocked Lord's by choosing to go off for bad light. Gower admitted being uninvolved in the decision because he was busy watching Wimbledon on the dressing room television. Pringle explained, 'I said to Lamby, "We are on top here, we should stay out," but he wasn't seeing it very well. Gower wasn't on the balcony so the umpire said to Allan, "You are the senior batsman, what do you want to do?" and he went off. I thought that was a bit crazy.'

Over the audible groans of Brian Johnston alongside him in the commentary box, Christopher Martin-Jenkins told BBC listeners, 'The Lord's crowd are appalled at that and [England] now appear to be throwing it away. They are going to waste a chance to get more runs on the board.'

On the final morning Willis, Botham and Gooch urged Gower to declare on the basis that England would not often find themselves in with even half a chance of pushing for victory against this West Indies team and the tourists eventually found themselves batting at 11.30am, needing 342 to win. 'We were simply dreadful,' is Gower's assessment of what happened next. 'The bowlers didn't bowl to their field and our fielding was nothing special.'

Greenidge capitalised magnificently, plundering boundary after boundary to reach 100 off 135 balls. Willis was punished for dropping short and Botham was tucked through the leg side or driven when he over-pitched. Gomes (92 not out) offered his usual unspectacular support in an unbroken partnership of 287 as Greenidge swung Botham into the grandstand off middle stump and almost cut umpire Barrie Meyer in half with a ferocious drive off Pringle. He reached 200 with a hooked six off Neil Foster and the West Indies won with almost twelve overs to spare. Greenidge's 214 not out included twenty-nine fours and, on this day at least, he seemed to have raised himself into the rarefied atmosphere of Richards, who sat unrequired in the pavilion.

'The press had been complaining that we didn't declare overnight,' laughed Fowler. 'We got absolutely hammered. Greenidge just went ballistic. He was an exceptional player and some days he could change and go nuts. It soon got to a point where we realised we couldn't stop him.'

The West Indies had achieved what was then the fifth-highest run chase in Test history; had done so in a manner that was stunning in its rarity for the era; and had given Gower the distinction of becoming the first England captain since 1948 to lose after declaring in the second innings.

'Losing that Test absolutely flattened us,' said Fowler. 'If you analyse every match, we got on top of them at times, but somebody would always pull something out of the bag. And when you hear people say that England couldn't handle Mitchell Johnson at 90mph in Australia, well, the West Indies had four of the buggers. It's physical. It's not like playing cricket. I remember getting out in the last Test. I'd only been hit on the head twice in my career and once was that season. I had my box smashed at Lord's and got hit on the wrist at The Oval and went back in after retiring hurt. I remember walking off after being out for the last time in the series and, although I hadn't been aware of it, I felt this enormous sense of relief that I was in one piece.

'It is all well and good having a plan of how to play against this lot, but you have a third of a second at both ends and one bloke is six foot nine. When Marshall and Garner were bowling together Marshall would bowl a length and you would have to go forward to it and Joel would bowl an identical length and you would have to go back because he got more bounce. It was incredible but I am glad I played against the best team in the world. It was something else. You realised that these guys were playing at a level you just couldn't play at.'

The bowlers had it no less easy, as Nick Cook, whose five wickets in three Tests cost 297 runs, attests. 'I contacted the BBC and got footage of me bowling in 1983 compared to 1984 so I could look at my action,' he explained. 'There was no bloody difference. It was the quality of the batsmen you were playing against. I had bowled to all of them as individuals and got them out in county cricket but when they kept coming one after another, you were always on the back foot. They imposed themselves on you physically, technically and mentally.'

Over the next three Tests, it was the West Indies bowlers who dominated. Not once in six innings did England match either of their totals at Lord's. Garner, who took twenty-nine wickets in the series from his menacing height, Marshall, with his whip and clever malevolence, and Holding, now with experience to add to his pace, all took turns at undermining England's batting efforts. In Baptiste the tourists had a less threatening fourth fast bowler than in previous series, but it barely mattered.

Marshall even managed to polish off England in the third Test at Headingley with a double fracture of his left thumb, suffered while fielding a shot from Broad in the gully on the first morning. The opener was eventually the fourth wicket to fall, the first three having included Paul Terry, rewarded for his glut of runs for Hampshire with a first cap. Only Lamb, in scoring his second successive century of the series, stood firm and England were dismissed for 270, Holding's four wickets having included his 200th in Tests.

Back in the team after a two-year absence, Paul Allott bowled with discipline to take 6 for 61 and the West Indies were struggling for a lead at 232 for 7. 'I bowled as well as I have ever bowled in the back end of'84 against the West Indies,' said Allott. 'I took a few wickets and was quite successful. I was comfortably experienced, I knew what I was trying to do as a bowler and it all sort of clicked.'

Holding then launched into England's bowlers, clearing the ropes five times in his 59, and Gomes nudged unhurriedly towards another century. When the ninth wicket fell with him seemingly stranded on 96, Marshall emerged with a plastered left arm and even edged a one-handed boundary as he accompanied his team-mate through to three figures.

Marshall tore off his protection as he took the field to bowl and proceeded to rip through the England order for his best figures in Test cricket. His seven wickets shattered England for 159, Fowler's fifty the only resistance, and left Greenidge and Haynes to compile a century partnership as their team won by eight wickets.

Greenidge was as immovable at Old Trafford as he had been irresistible at Lord's. Emulating the feat of Richards in 1976 of scoring two double-centuries in a series in England, his 223 was a masterpiece of judgement and technique. The somewhat erratic nature of the wicket, which England hoped to exploit by bringing back off-spinner Pat Pocock – eight years after his previous Test had been on this ground against these opponents – held no terror for Greenidge as he led his team to 500.

Norman Cowans was another change to the England attack, Willis having withdrawn sick. In fact, the big-hearted fast bowler's career was at an end. He seemed never to have bounced back from the illness that curtailed his winter tour and his appearance for Warwickshire in their Benson and Hedges Cup Final defeat against Lancashire in between the third and fourth Tests would prove to be his final game.

Allott did most to reduce the West Indies to 77 for 4 at lunch on the first day, dismissing Gomes, Richards and Lloyd in a thirteen-ball span. But then wicketkeeper Jeff Dujon took control, completing his century before a 197-run partnership with Greenidge was broken. Winston Davis, recruited from Glamorgan as cover a couple of weeks earlier, scored 77 with a mixture of cross-batted swings and cheeky dabs before falling to Pocock, whose four wickets late in the innings ended Greenidge's 587-minute marathon.

In reply, Fowler played on after an encouraging start before Terry became the latest injury victim of the West Indies pacemen, his arm broken by a short delivery from Davis. Lamb batted superbly to reach his third century in as many Tests, a phenomenal achievement against such an attack – possibly the finest feat by any England batsman in the entire decade.

Lamb credits his success partly to a refusal to become bogged down in strokeless defence. 'The big thing is you have got to rotate the strike,' he said. 'The bowlers like bowling six balls in a row at one batter. The West Indies didn't like you scoring runs and rotating the strike because they can't bowl the same length. You can't just occupy the crease and not score runs otherwise you are going to get an unplayable delivery. You never felt on top of them because you knew eventually they were going to produce a great ball and get you out.'

That Lamb got to three figures on this occasion was down to another selfless act by an injured batsman. As Marshall had done, so Terry came out to the crease in spite of his injury. As he stood with his plastered arm in a sling under his England jumper, Lamb played back five balls from Holding before turning the sixth to fine leg for the two runs needed to reach his century – at which point he made for the pavilion. Gower inexplicably ordered the batsmen to stay out, whereupon the defenceless Terry was bowled second ball by Garner.

If there had been no intention to declare, people wondered, why had Lamb not settled for a single and protected Terry, even though it would have left him on 99? 'Paul said, "Just get your hundred and then we are going off,"' Lamb explained. 'That is why I took two. We had to get another thirty or forty _(sic)_ runs to save the follow on and if David had conveyed that [intention] I would not have taken two.' Even Gower admitted that his spur-of-the-moment decision to bat on was 'a foolhardy idea and it didn't work'.

Following on 220 behind, England were undone by the spin they'd suspected would eventually play a significant role in the game, Roger Harper taking six wickets. Gower's first half-century of the series did little to ease his pain; nor was it a portent of improved fortunes. He suffered two failures at the hands of a hostile Holding in a 172-run defeat at The Oval, having urged one final effort from his team to avoid only the fifth five-game whitewash in the history of Test cricket.

Seamers Jonathan Agnew and Richard Ellison, of Leicestershire and Kent respectively, were the latest inclusions and it was the latter who helped Allott offer vital support to Botham as the West Indies were bowled out for 190. Botham's selection had been debated after he revealed an intention to miss the winter tour to India in order to take a break after seventy-three Tests in seven years, but his inclusion was justified by the twenty-third five-wicket haul of his Test career. In the course of his achievement he joined Willis and Fred Trueman beyond 300 wickets for his country.

Having lost Broad on the first evening, England were terrorised on the second morning by Marshall, who took five wickets and bowled with hostility that, in the view of many, overstepped acceptable boundaries. Fowler retired with a bruised arm and nightwatchman Pocock was given a torrid forty-six minutes at the crease. Just as at Old Trafford on the infamous Saturday evening in 1976 when Brian Close and John Edrich were bombarded by Holding, Roberts and Daniel, the umpires were in no hurry to intervene.

Having been bowled out for 162, England looked like clawing their way back when Agnew, far more settled than in the first innings, accounted for Greenidge and Richards. Yet it was finally time for Haynes to make a contribution after a wretched series, batting for seven hours to reach a century and setting England 375 to win in ten hours. Broad and Tavaré both resisted for around three hours but when Holding, unleashing his long run for the first time in the summer, took three wickets in five balls the damage was irreparable. Botham's 54 merely delayed the final-day celebrations of the West Indian fans, who joyously unveiled a banner announcing, 'BLACK WASH'.

'For my money, that's the best side there ever was,' said Agnew, who would play in the remaining Test of the season but only one further match beyond that. He was part of an England attack unable to finish the summer by producing the expected victory over a Sri Lanka team playing their first Test in England. Gower put Sri Lanka in at Lord's and watched them bat for two days, declaring at 491 for 7 after centuries by Sidath Wettimuny and captain Duleep Mendis. Having greeted the feats of the underdogs with generosity, the Lord's crowd were less charitable as Broad and Tavaré crawled to forty-nine runs in the Saturday afternoon session, both batting for a winter tour place that neither achieved. Gower was even forced to apologise at that evening's press conference. Once again it was left to Lamb to spare England's blushes and had it not been for his fourth century of his magnificent summer they could have been facing the ignominy of the follow-on. Left-handed opener Amal Silva became the visitors' third centurion as the game progressed towards a draw and Botham bade temporary farewell to Test cricket with six wickets. England had now reached twelve Tests without a victory, equalling the longest drought in their history.

### **Searchin' (I Gotta Find a Man)**

Having won the final three Tests of their home series against Australia prior to arriving in England, the West Indies would run their sequence of victories against their two biggest rivals to a remarkable eleven when they won three on the trot in Australia a few months later. It was an astonishing feat, one which – for all their depth in batting – was characterised by the four-man fast bowling attack.

Just as a couple of decades later the success of Shane Warne and Muttiah Muralitharan would provoke among administrators and coaches a frenzied desire for a mystery spinner, the response of English cricket to the West Indies' achievements was to ask where all the fast bowlers were hiding. Not in county teams – at least not in sufficient numbers.

'There was limited stock,' said Ian Greig, who eventually moved from Sussex to become captain of Surrey. 'With seventeen counties, that should mean thirty-four opening bowlers, but England were only picking from around ten because so many were overseas players.'

By 1986, the horizon was so barren of potential world-class seamers that Derek Hodgson wrote in _The Cricketer_ , 'The arrival of an English pace bowler in the top twenty of the national averages has become an event that, while not quite as sensational as a new star in the sky, does provoke much gossip, speculation, perhaps a call for a Royal Commission of Enquiry'.

A sponsor, Webster's Yorkshire Bitter, stepped forward in the autumn of 1984 with a scheme to discover the new Trueman, Snow or Willis – 'a husky brute' as the promotional material put it. With the public backing of former England skipper Ted Dexter and Willis himself, the aim was to identify athletes – javelin throwers, for example – with the basic physical attributes that could be directed towards fast bowling. Entry forms were left in pubs, with many being filled in by drunks or jokers. To some observers, it was a risible idea in the first place.

Writer E.M. Wellings described the scheme as a 'ludicrous call put out by a cricketing quango headed by the often eccentric Ted Dexter' and added that he had 'rarely known such nonsense'. He concluded, 'If Dexter and co think they can collect any muscle-bound tough from [Arthur] Scargill's picket gang and turn them into a cricketer, they are crackers.'

Roy Groves, a lecturer in sports studies, wrote an article for _The Cricketer_ defending the basic premise of the programme. 'No longer can the hardening conditions of manual labour provide the work horses of the county teams,' he said. 'Ted Dexter's novel search for young men with strength, speed and height recognises that the muscle speed and power which are the basis of the javelin thrower's technique are also vital ingredients in the make-up of a potential fast bowler.'

Yet Fred Trueman thought it was all 'poppycock', arguing that those promoting the scheme 'don't talk about the will to succeed and the need to keep on bowling in hot weather when the opposition is 300 for 1'.

In the end, nineteen-year-old Plymouth Polytechnic student Tom Stancombe, who had already played for the south of England Under-19s, was identified as the pick of the 3,000 entrants. It is fair to say he did not go on to change the face of English cricket, playing a handful of games for the second elevens of Warwickshire and Glamorgan and for Hertfordshire in minor county cricket. It was not a great return for the brewery's £100,000 and the programme was not repeated. Dexter was clearly no Simon Cowell, although _Wisden_ editor John Woodcock suggested there was little history to suggest he would succeed in his search. 'Fast bowlers of English stock, and I mean genuinely fast, always have been scarce,' he wrote. 'English conditions and the structure of the first-class game, as well as the Englishman's natural capacity are not conducive to bowling with what West Indians call "pace like fire".'

Another big part of England's problem was that the best seam bowlers they did have appeared to be constantly injured, frequently victims of a county schedule that could force them to bowl close to 100 overs in a week between Test matches. Niggling injuries and complete breakdowns were as much to blame as the selectors for the fact that Neil Foster and Graham Dilley, two of the country's leading quick bowlers throughout the decade, appeared together only nine times during the six years in which their Test careers were simultaneously active.

'We just went from place to place playing county cricket,' Greig continued. 'There was no rotation and the county couldn't give a monkey's that people were playing a Test match the next day.'

Paul Allott was one of those who seemed to spend as much time on the treatment table as in the comfort of his own bed. 'I am sure the schedule was a contributing factor,' he said. 'You are playing virtually every day of the week and that is how it went on and on and on. As a bowler you found it debilitating after a while, but we didn't give it a thought. That was how you played the game then.

'It is only in retrospect that you realise that, obviously, playing virtually seven days a week and the travelling is going to take its toll. As a bowler you get yourself into a situation where you think you can play even with a niggle or a slight strain. And that makes everything worse. You need to protect the injury. It did mean that you got to know your body; you knew what was serious and you were experienced in playing through niggles. I am not sure the modern cricketer is. It takes them longer to know what they should play through or what they can do.'

Gladstone Small remembered the lesson he learned from watching his county captain Bob Willis returning wearily from England duty. 'Test cricket took a lot out of him, so when he bowled at run of the mill county batsmen he looked after himself. But when he bowled at Boycott or Richards or Gower you could see how he raised his game. It was good to see at close quarters the intensity you needed to compete against the best but at the same time how to pace yourself and read games. You had to learn when you had to go hard to make a breakthrough and when to ease back and bowl to contain and look after yourself. Fast bowlers get injuries when you are gunning all the time; with experience you learn how to temper it.'

According to Greig, overseas players were more able to do that and more aware of the perils of county cricket's relentless grind. 'I can remember long conversations at Sussex and Imran Khan telling Garth le Roux, "You are allowing the system to use you. Before long you will become a county plodder if you continue to play every game for Sussex day in day out; you will become a donkey." Imran was all about preserving his fitness as a fast bowler so that when he bowled there was never any question of just getting it up there at medium pace. It was flat out or nothing.'

There were few English bowlers who had either the luxury or the influence to be able to follow Imran's example. Instead, said Greig, 'There were so many who were used up by the system in the '80s. It was terribly sad.'

## **11
A NEW ENGLAND**

'We knew we were doing well, that we were doing something special, and when we won at Madras we knew we'd done something massive' – Graeme Fowler

THE players, confined by circumstance to their hotel, had a choice. They could lie in luxury by the pool while attentive, friendly waiters broke off from asking for autographs and match tickets for long enough to bring them another drink or supply fresh towels. Or they could return to their rooms and watch in a mixture of fascination and horror at the fires raging across New Delhi as the city descended into civil war.

When England had last toured India three years earlier, the series had been thrown into doubt because of political arguments over the South African connections of two of their players, Geoff Boycott and Geoff Cook. This time, barely had they arrived before they awoke to the news that Prime Minister Indira Gandhi had been assassinated two miles from their hotel when two Sikh bodyguards fired thirty bullets into her body.

Again, the future of the tour was in doubt while the country came to grips with such a shocking act and violence erupted on the streets. Sikh homes, schools and businesses were set alight as the Hindu population sought revenge. Within a couple of days reports suggested 500 people had died in fighting in Delhi alone. Yet, incongruously, children, Hindu and Sikh together, continued to play cricket in a disused car park just outside the England hotel. It was the somewhat romantic idea that cricket might somehow hold the nation together at a time of fragility that offered the best hope for the future of the tour.

After two days of negotiation between the British High Commission, tour manager Tony Brown and the Indian government and cricket authorities, England's increasingly nervous and restless players were offered sanctuary and some warm-up games in Sri Lanka, flying to the country on the plane of President J.R. Jayewardene when he returned from Mrs Gandhi's funeral. When they got back to India and embarked upon their warm-up matches, the squad assumed some sort of normality had resumed. Yet the day before the first Test began in Bombay, British Deputy High Commissioner Percy Norris was shot dead – again within the immediate vicinity of where the team was staying. The team had been guests at his home only the evening before.

Suddenly the security of the England team itself was an issue. Many members of the party would happily have returned home immediately. 'Tony Brown called a meeting because some of the players had expressed concerns,' Richard Ellison, a first-time tourist, remembered. 'Ultimately it wasn't our decision; it was down to the Foreign Office or some government establishment back in London. We didn't feel threatened by the internal uprising around Indira Gandhi but now the big concern was that someone British had been targeted. Being my first tour I just wanted to be part of something that was new to me. I didn't want to go home. But Tony said if anyone wanted to have their passport and leave they could'.

Allan Lamb was one of those who had been voicing serious concerns and Graeme Fowler recalled Brown being 'a bit harsh' in dismissing such fears. But when Brown met with the Foreign Office, the TCCB and local security agencies he was advised that the murder of Norris was unrelated to the presence of the team in India. The tour went ahead – albeit with a heavy armed security presence and a revision to the schedule to delay the visit to the north of the country. The players, wary of snipers, began referring to training as 'target practice', while Fowler admitted, 'I would be lying if I said that the thought of being shot at didn't cross my mind'.

Given the backdrop, it was hardly surprising that England began the series by setting a record for the longest winless sequence in their history. Defeat in Bombay was their thirteenth Test without a win, beating the record they had most recently equalled at the start of the decade, and left them facing the prospect of a repeat of three years earlier – when the lifeless wickets and Indian batsmen had locked down the series after victory in the first Test.

Yet England left India as the first team ever to come from behind to win a series in that country after Pat Pocock and Phil Edmonds span England to victory in the second Test in Delhi and double-centuries by Mike Gatting and Graeme Fowler and the bowling of Neil Foster inspired victory on a surprisingly bouncy Madras wicket in the fourth. It was England's first overseas series win for six years.

'We were thought to be one of the poorer England teams to go on tour for a long while,' said Ellison. 'After we lost the first Test in Bombay there was talk that you don't come back from going one down in India because the pitches will be flat. There was genuine surprise from people outside the touring group that with our side we had come back to win 2-1. Given how competitive and at times difficult that tour was we knew we'd achieved something special'.

At the heart of the success was said to be that ill-defined quality of team spirit, although that tends to come naturally from winning and may also underplay the achievements of players at the top of their individual games. There was no doubt, however, that the tour party enjoyed a different atmosphere in the absence of Ian Botham's mighty persona.

'That was the biggest change for me,' said Fowler, who was on his third England tour. 'I have always got on well with Beefy, but he was too much for some people because he was such a large character. I missed him. I had spent nights in his room where we just chatted, watched TV and shared one bottle of wine between the two of us'.

Diarising the tour, Botham's Somerset team-mate, Vic Marks, suggested, 'His absence may ease the roles of Gower and Gatting. Ian is such a dominant personality that it is difficult not to be overshadowed by him.' He added that Botham's presence 'might have reduced the authority of the captain and vice-captain'. There was also, Marks would comment, the question of 'who is going to fill our opening batsman's shoes with shaving foam, deafen us with Toyah or lift the depression of colleagues by sheer exuberance?'

Paul Downton added, 'You didn't have the big iconic players like Botham and Goochie so it was more about the team performance. Everybody felt valued and able to chip in. The atmosphere around that tour was fantastic.'

Keen not to overstate the significance of Botham's non-appearance, Gower recalled, 'I wouldn't say it was easier because that implies there is a benefit to having him missing. Having Ian in your side was a benefit pretty much whatever the circumstances. I would rather have had him in the team than sitting at home, even if his way of life didn't conform to most people's image of your absolute professional sportsman'.

Marks cited the 'enlightened approach' of the management in helping the squad maintain enthusiasm for their long tour. When possible, players were given time off: Tim Robinson and Gower allowed to view wildlife in Rajasthan; wicketkeeper Bruce French, a keen mountaineer, freed from duties to visit Everest; Allan Lamb offered a beach break with his wife.

And the adversity faced by the squad in the early days also helped foster unity. 'It was quite a fraught tour from the moment we arrived and it made us stick together,' said Fowler. 'There weren't many places to go out to at night so we hung around in groups and the team room was a big focal point. Gower had a lovely relaxed way of doing things, although he was strong. It worked well'.

Nottinghamshire's Robinson, selected for his first tour after scoring more than 2,000 first-class runs in the English season, had played under Gower in a junior regional tournament. 'When I turned up in '84 I don't think he had changed at all,' he recalled. 'David was pretty laid back to say the least. He spoke very well and in those days was an ideal choice of captain'.

With the ban on the South African rebels entering its final winter and Botham absenting himself, Gower presided over a relatively inexperienced team. Of the new tourists, Ellison believes that being selected for England only at the end of the West Indies summer series helped him secure a seat on the plane. 'If I had been picked for the early Tests perhaps I might have stayed for a couple and then got dropped. Having got wickets in the last Test was better because it was often the case that people got on the tour because they had done well late in the season. I was still reasonably surprised but others were unavailable. Botham wasn't going so that opened up a potential all-rounder's slot and maybe my ability to bat persuaded some decision makers.'.

The man who appeared to have been earmarked to fill Botham's place at number six was Kent's Chris Cowdrey, a decent batsman whose medium-pacers were unlikely to produce any Botham-sized returns. Selected with him was Surrey off-spinner Pocock, who had previously toured for England under Chris's father, Colin. The other spinners chosen were Marks, expected to be a one-day specialist as usual, and Edmonds, clearly forgiven by Gower for previous misdemeanours.

'I had known Philippe since my first tour and always had a good relationship with him,' Gower explained. 'I remember clearly in the selection meeting being asked who we should have as spinners and I said Edmonds. They said, "Isn't he a bit difficult?" I asked something like, "Are we trying to take the best spinner or the best bloke?" Philippe was a very feisty, opinionated character and a bloody good left-arm spin bowler. For the first month of the tour he had the yips and could hardly get to the crease but he could still bowl. I had a conversation with him but it wasn't a long drawn-out thing. He said, "If you are coming to speak to me about my bowling, I am fine." Job done. He was an absolute asset.

'Whenever you look at issues concerning so-called difficult players, at some stage there is a limit and there have been players who have been excluded for not quite being the right character. Circumstantial stuff, but as far as I was concerned Edmonds was a must. I am a believer that you have to work with fifteen totally separate, unique characters. I am the biggest opponent of a one-size-fits-all regime – and you don't have to ask which regime I am thinking of. You need some team structure and discipline but you have to work instinctively with each individual. You have to be very good at judging people, like Brearley was, or lucky. Some you get through to and some you don't. If you don't have the key to their personality and motivation you just hope whatever they do for themselves is good enough'.

India had not won any of the thirty-one Tests since they beat Keith Fletcher's team three years earlier, so when they won the first Test in Bombay by eight wickets it was cold water in the face of an England squad that appeared to have been caught slumbering. Despite a heavy defeat against India's Under-25 team and the unsettling events in the earlier weeks of the tour, Robinson recalls the blow of such an overwhelming defeat. He and Cowdrey, both winning their first caps, were part of England's collapse to 68 for 7 and 195 all out as Laxman Sivaramakrishnan, the slightly built leg-spinner, took advantage of a turning wicket. Grabbing six wickets in each innings of his Test debut, he proved unfathomable. 'We hadn't heard anything about this lad,' said Robinson. 'Most of us couldn't even pronounce his name. We had prepared quite well for the first Test and we felt quite confident, but he came along and just bemused us. He blew us away and we got one or two poor decisions. It came as quite a shock to the system'.

India's first-innings lead of 270 was built around a national record seventh-wicket partnership of 235 between centurions Ravi Shastri and wicketkeeper Syed Kirmani. A promising innings by Kapil Dev had been halted at 42 when he was bowled by Cowdrey in his first over in Test cricket, a moment of excitement that caused father Colin, listening on his car radio in Kent, to drive the wrong way up a one-way street in a blizzard and be stopped by the police.

Cowdrey junior had been feeling rather less than sprightly after more than a day in the field, much of it fielding close to the bat, when Gower strolled over and told him, 'You're bowling,' adding that it was not worth taking off his protective gear as he wouldn't be on for long. 'So I ended up bowling my first over for England with a huge pair of shin pads on and a box,' Cowdrey recalled.

Sivaramakrishnan was delayed in his second-innings progress by Gatting, remembered by Robinson as 'the only bloke who thought he could read him and play him'. Gatting, at last as squat and sturdy in his batting as in his appearance, scored his first Test century, adding 135 with Fowler before a flurry of wickets, aided by some questionable decisions by umpire Swarup Krishan, left him fighting a lone battle. 'It helped that we had to bat for so long,' Gatting said. 'It wasn't a question of me getting a hundred; it was a question of staying at the crease for as long as possible. It was such a relief to get there and see the whole press box on their feet applauding.' He responded to achieving his landmark with a flurry of boundaries before he fell for 136, leaving Downton (62) to ensure that India had to bat again.

So ended one of the enduring stories of the first half of the decade. Gatting's quest for a century had stretched out over seven years like a Tolkien trilogy, the 'precious' of three figures seeming forever beyond his grasp over the course of fifty-three previous attempts. Poor judgement of line had contributed to nineteen of his first forty-eight dismissals being lbw, including a run of five in six innings in 1981. Someone who preferred to work with coaches rather than study his game on video, he had been found out early in his career as a predominantly off-side player and worked to improve his shot-making all around the wicket. 'It was only after 1985 that I started to bat like I was in county cricket,' he said.

Discussing Gatting's long-awaited emergence, Marks suggested, 'In the England team he has often been overshadowed by the likes of Ian Botham both in cricketing terms and within the social structure of the group and I felt this has had an effect on his performance.' Nick Cook was among others who suggested that it was being freed from the overbearing presence of Botham, who loved to make Gatting the butt of his jokes, and the doubts of previous captain Bob Willis that allowed the Middlesex man to bloom at last.

Gatting always maintained that he had never 'had a phobia' about representing his country, but was trapped in some kind of vicious circle, unable to find a level of comfort because his form never allowed him an extended run. 'Playing for England was like playing for any other team, and you had to feel a part before you could do your best,' he said. 'I didn't feel accepted or settled'.

He acknowledges that Gower's confidence in him played an important part in his final emergence from those dark early years into a Test career illuminated by ten centuries. Gower had told him before the series that he wanted him to bat at number three and, if things didn't go well, he would move him down to number five. But his place was guaranteed for the series. 'With a bit of luck I got to my first hundred and then scored another in the one-dayer in Pune,' Gatting recalled. 'I just felt a different person in Test cricket. I felt comfortable'.

It had been an instinctive and unselfish move by Gower to relinquish to Gatting the slot from where he had already scored several Test centuries and from where he would dominate the 1985 Ashes series. 'The early experiment of batting me at three was uncomfortable because in my mind I wasn't quite sure about it,' Gower admitted. 'When I first started playing Test cricket I was at five but when Brearley told me we needed someone to bat three, of course I said I would do it. But if you are thinking "it is not quite my position; let's see how it goes" you are not quite at the optimal level. You should approach everything thinking "I am really going to make this work". Later, I thrived there and had my best years at three'.

So why elevate Gatting? 'That suited the side at that time of its development and it suited me. It worked because Gatt got a lot of runs. The idea of captaincy and putting together an eleven is to find the best combination for all concerned. I am very proud of giving Gatt his chance. He'd had several years when he wasn't sure about life in the team; he was in and out and had several different roles. To give him the number three slot and make him vice-captain was the fillip he needed'.

Even in a country where a cricket victory was such cause for widespread celebration, national events quickly overshadowed games on the field once more. The day after the Test, a leak of chemical fumes from the Union Carbide pesticide plant in Bhopal, in the heart of the country, left 2,000 dead within forty-eight hours. It rather put the England's team's issues with a mystery spinner into context.

England looked likely to toil in the field again when Gower lost the toss for the second Test in Delhi, but Ellison got Gavaskar fencing at an out-swinger and India crawled to 144 for 6 – only for Kapil Dev and the tail to carry them past 300. It was time to face Sivaramakrishnan again.

'Tony Brown and Norman Gifford had tried very hard to get local leg spinners to come and bowl at us in the nets because we didn't have one,' said Robinson, who embarked upon an almost nine-hour innings that brought him a first Test hundred. Always watchful against some low bounce, strong off his legs and quick to punish anything over-pitched, the only chance he gave on his way to 160 was a missed stumping. 'I wouldn't say I could read Siva, but I felt I could stay there and try and wear him down,' he explained. 'That was the attitude I took. I was never going to blast him out of the attack – I wasn't that sort of player – I was better off trying to occupy the crease. It was a strange feeling. I still wasn't sure I could read him but I seemed to get on the same wavelength. I knew when he was going to bowl his googly'.

Cowdrey would describe Robinson as being unsure with whom he had been batting when he reached three figures or against whom he had scored his 100th run. 'Such are his powers of concentration that he couldn't quite recall the greatest moment of his cricketing career,' he said.

England gained a lead of 111 – despite another six wickets for Sivaramakrishnan – but at 128 for 2 at the close of the fourth day, India looked unlikely to be beaten and Gower was being accused of under-utilising the dangerous, if erratic, Norman Cowans. The picture changed when Edmonds turned the second ball of the last day away from Mohinder Amarnath and took out his off stump. Pocock dismissed the out-of-form Gavaskar an hour later and the two spinners, bowling with splendid accuracy, each took three more wickets as India lost their last six men for twenty-eight runs. England had an hour and twenty overs to score the 125 they needed and still had eight wickets and more than eight overs in hand when Lamb hit the winning runs.

Kapil Dev, though, had not given up without trying everything in his power, as Robinson recalled. 'The wicket was starting to break up and holes were appearing. Kapil came on to bowl and one went through the top, off a length. He walked down and marked the side of the wicket with his boot, scuffing it so he could see exactly the length. I took exception to that but the umpires weren't going to do anything about it. So I just went down and made a load more marks so he couldn't see which one was his'.

England welcomed a new face to the squad after Jonathan Agnew, disappointed to have missed the original selection, was flown out for Paul Allott, who was suffering from a back injury. Agnew's biggest contribution to the story of the tour would come when he and French helped save a pair of Indian college girls from drowning at the beach during the rest day in Madras.

For now, Agnew would witness a dull draw at Calcutta, where smog and rain hampered the likelihood of a result. In any case, the outcome of the match was overshadowed by the dropping of Kapil Dev and the actions of skipper Gavaskar. Kapil was discarded by the selectors as reprisal for his alleged irresponsibility in his second innings dismissal at Delhi. Several days of discussion between the Indian board and selectors ensued before India finally took the field without their talismanic all-rounder.

Gavaskar, for his part, displayed the same streak of stubbornness that had led him to bat sixty overs for 36 not out in his country's inaugural World Cup game against England in 1975. Having lost most of the second day to the weather, Gavaskar allowed his team to bat on well beyond lunch on day four, which they had taken at 417 for 7. Mohammad Azharuddin, a centurion on his Test debut, and Ravi Shastri, who also reached three figures, had shared a fifth-wicket partnership of 214 at two runs per over – a situation that had brought an angry crowd to the cusp of a full-blown riot.

They turned their attention to the skipper with chants of 'Gavaskar out', while Gower made his feelings known by bowling three overs himself in the later stages of the tortuous innings and Edmonds read a newspaper on the boundary. One report suggested that police warned Gavaskar to declare or risk the threat of major disruption, although this he denied. As at Lord's eight years earlier, when Gavaskar was thought to be angered by the selectors' choice of Bedi as captain, there was some suggestion that his actions in Calcutta were in protest at the selection of Azharuddin instead of his own choice, Kris Srikkanth.

Ellison's figures summed up England's toil, fifty-three overs without a wicket, although he recalled, 'I actually found the ball swung reasonably consistently. I didn't get wickets outside of the Delhi Test but I was relatively unlucky in beating the outside edge on a consistent basis. I could have bowled worse and got five wickets'.

With only eight hours left in the game, England's innings – highlighted by Lamb's 67 – was an irrelevance. A crowd of 60,000 still turned up for the meaningless final day, although _Wisden_ noted that such a drop from the capacity was a 'phenomenon'.

England made sure of at least a share of the series with a memorable performance at Madras, where the fourth Test was dominated by the performances of three men. Essex seamer Foster, in his first Test of the tour, took eleven wickets in the match, while Fowler and Gatting became the first England batsmen to score double-centuries in the same game.

India were bowled out in just over five hours after winning the toss, Foster removing both openers and later breaking a threatening stand of 110 between Azharuddin and Amarnath. With a classic upright delivery and a reputation for moodiness on and off the field that earned him the nickname 'Angry' – which he said he deliberately cultivated as a form of self-motivation – Foster revelled in unexpectedly helpful conditions.

'I always felt I could get them out as the ball bounced and swung a little,' he said. 'It was my wicket. Of all the bowlers in the match I was the most dangerous because of my height and high action.' Extracting life from the surface and swinging the ball to an extent beyond the ability of most of his opponents, he finished with six wickets, allowing England to set off in pursuit of a modest total of 272.

The reinstated Kapil had scored 58 of those runs but his return to the bowling attack was blunted by Robinson and Fowler, who had made a slight adjustment to his grip before the game on the suggestion of the observant Pocock. Each batsman survived chances to compile a partnership of 178 before Gatting replaced Robinson following his dismissal for 74. For Fowler, there was a stark contrast between his opening partner, insular and quiet during an innings, and the more garrulous Gatting, constantly chatting and encouraging. With the outfield offering full value for shots, Gatting went on the attack, his strokeplay as quick as his tongue. He and Fowler had added 241 before Fowler's 565-minute marathon came to an end on 201, which included three sixes, twenty-one fours and even a five. Fowler, who had sensed and capitalised on Sivaramakrishnan's growing frustration throughout his innings, explained, 'I reckon it took me twelve or thirteen Test matches to feel comfortable in an England shirt. By that tour, I went as senior opening batsman and I liked that responsibility. And I liked playing against spin as well as the quicks'.

The generous Gatting had done his bit to aid Fowler's comfort in that innings by shielding him at the end of a long day at the crease. 'There was a long single on for the first ball of the last over, which would have got me off strike,' Gatting explained. Instead of escaping the safety of the bowler's end Gatting told his partner, 'No, don't worry, Foxy. You're tired. I'll take this,' and proceeded to play out the over.

Gatting reached his own double-century before holing out to long-on after three sixes and twenty fours. His urgency, which saw him compile his runs in around one hundred fewer balls than Fowler, contributed towards a brisk partnership of 144 with Lamb and allowed Gower to declare at 652 for 7, the highest score England had ever made against India.

Foster all but ensured an England victory with an opening burst of three wickets in his first four overs. As in the first innings, it was Amarnath and Azharuddin who countered with an attacking partnership of 190. Foster removed Amarnath for 95 before Azharuddin, whose precocious shot-making gave him another century, fell to the much-punished Pocock at silly point. Kapil and Kirmani, who was also out five short of a century, bashed effectively for a while but the new ball hastened England towards a nine-wicket win for a 2-1 lead.

Victory in the series was secured when England avoided collapse in the face of India's highest total against them. The remarkable Azharuddin scored his third century in three Tests, dispatching the spinners with wristy elegance, and Vengsarkar batted six hours for his three figures, but rarely did India look to increase the tempo in order to give themselves maximum time to attack England's batsmen.

Having spent two days in the field while the home side amassed 553 for 8, England reached safety when Gower's composed 78 steered them beyond the follow-on threshold. Earlier, it had taken India seventy-three overs to prise apart Robinson (96) and Fowler (69) and, after Gatting had also made it into the sixties, Gower and Edmonds shared a century stand to repair the damage inflicted by Gopal Sharma's three quick wickets. India's second-innings thrash and declaration was optimistic in the extreme.

England had won their first series away from home since Australia six years earlier and recorded what would turn out to be their last success in India for a further twenty-eight years. 'After we won the second Test we were growing in confidence and thinking, "We can do this,"' said Fowler. 'We didn't get ahead of ourselves, took each day as it came and fought like mad'.

Robinson added, 'I certainly appreciate the achievement now but at the time we didn't think they were that much better than us, so I never thought this could be an epic tour or anything like that. We just felt like we had to bounce back after not performing in the first Test'.

## **12
WELCOME TO THE PLEASUREDOME**

'I found it strange that the 2005 team all found themselves with MBEs in the next honours list. If I had been given an award every time England won the Ashes during the course of my career I would be in the House of Lords' – David Gower

WITH two Test matches left in the six-game Ashes series of 1985, Australia, although looking the inferior side, needed only to avoid defeat in both or win one of them to retain the urn. What followed were two devastating innings defeats that left the series looking like a lopsided triumph for David Gower's team.

'Winning in India was important, very important,' said Gower. 'But the Ashes is always important and it was a pinnacle for me because everything came together after a sticky start. To captain an England side to victory against Australia is special and to make the most runs you have ever made in a series at the same time, well, it was the twin joys of succeeding personally and as a captain, which is the absolute apogee'.

Ironically, just as England were welcoming back Graham Gooch, John Emburey, Peter Willey and Les Taylor – all picked in this series after completing their three-year bans for their part in the rebel tour of South Africa – so Australia were depleted by the announcement of another unofficial tour to the Republic. Bowlers such as Terry Alderman, Rodney Hogg and Carl Rackemann took the rand.

So, too, did former captain Kim Hughes, who originally turned down his offer, despite having been left out of the official party for England. When Dirk Wellham, Graeme Wood and Wayne Phillips were tempted to back out of their South African contracts by increased offers from the Australian Cricket Board, a disillusioned Hughes could no longer see the point of his loyalty and signed up to captain the rebels.

For the third successive Ashes series in England, then, it meant the home side faced an opposition wracked by internal issues – Packer in 1977, the alleged Hughes–Marsh rift of 1981 and now the presence of players who'd been happy to walk away from the team until dollars were dangled in front of them. Amid all this, Allan Border, who had succeeded Hughes as skipper after his tearful resignation from the post a year earlier, began the tour with centuries in his first four first-class innings and had scored consistently in his team's 2-1 victory in the Texaco Trophy one-dayers.

The Test series saw the TCCB introduce a refund policy for ticket-holders when a full day's play was washed out – minus a 45p administration fee – and allowed spectators to book tickets with credit cards via telephone rather than forcing them to write letters and enclose cheques. On the media front, the BBC were roundly criticised for withdrawing commentary of _Test Match Special_ from their World Service broadcasts in order to make a saving of £18,000.

Some things never changed, though. Ashes Tests at Headingley always seemed to produce something special: Underwood on the infected wicket in 1972; the pitch sabotage of 1975; Boycott's 100th hundred two years later; and Botham and Willis's miracle in 1981. The first game of the 1985 series might not have gone down in history but it offered a mighty good game with a suitably tense finish.

Gooch's return was widely predicted, especially after a 1984 summer in which he had scored 2,500 first-class runs and helped Essex win the County Championship and John Player League. England bowler turned journalist Mike Selvey sensed that even Graeme Fowler was unsurprised. 'To watch him open the innings was to reach for the Valium bottle,' he would argue. 'I have a theory that Fowler knew he was playing Test cricket on borrowed time and set out to relish, savour and damn well enjoy every single moment'.

Fowler could have been excused for bitterness at his disappearance from Test cricket only two matches after a double-century, but any resentment lies more towards the way the Essex man's return has come to be recorded by history. 'It's not true that I was discarded just because Gooch came back,' he insisted. 'I came back from the Indian tour and I had a problem with pins and needles in my arm and pain under my shoulder blade. It turned out I had two crushed vertebrae under my neck. It was that that stopped me playing, not Goochie coming back. I went from scoring 200 in a Test to Lancashire's second eleven in three months because I couldn't physically bat and I hadn't scored a single run. Being stupid, I didn't tell anyone; I just carried on playing. But it became obvious to everybody that I couldn't play. I waited until the end of the season and had a manipulative operation which put me back on track again. First game in 1986 I got 180 so I was up and running again, but by then things had moved on'.

Another of the recent heroes of Madras, Neil Foster, was also missing, yet another victim of the selectors' apparent short-term memory problems. 'I would have expected to have had a run in the side,' he told _Backspin_ magazine. 'I was back to square one. I've always resented that'.

Surprised at being overlooked for the one-day contests, Emburey was back for the first Test, grateful for the obvious lack of lingering resentment towards him for his previous defection. 'I think there had been a little bit of animosity among some of the county players – the weaker ones who were never going to play international cricket and were worried about their own careers,' he suggested. 'But not at Middlesex and not when I was back playing for England'.

Australian opener Andrew Hilditch made the first century of the series, 119 in 247 minutes. Displaying a wide range of shots, he would also make 80 in the second innings, but his tour never reached such heights again. Having been 201 for 2, Australia folded to 331 after Botham took three wickets in four balls.

Aided by improving weather, England piled up 533 in reply, despite losing Gooch lbw to Craig McDermott for five on his Test return. Robinson, meanwhile, carried his form of the winter into a superb innings of 175 off 271 balls. Given the lack of TV coverage from India, this was many people's first prolonged exposure to the Notts opener and he impressed with the speed of his scoring and his back-foot strokeplay, especially coming after the more attritional style of the games in India. 'That summer was unbelievable for us,' Robinson said. 'That was probably when I really started feeling at home in the Test side. Going away and making your debut on tour was totally different to coming home and playing a Test series, against Australia, and everything built around it. That summer was probably the highlight of my career'.

By the time Botham came in to blast 60 off 51 balls, the inexperienced Australian attack was wilting and Downton, on his way to a half-century, was even able to add 49 for the final wicket with Norman Cowans.

Hilditch found support from Kepler Wessels second time around but when Australia lost six wickets in erasing their deficit the bookmakers, stung by their own odds four years earlier, ceased taking bets on an away victory. Phillips held things up and England were eventually left with 200 minutes to score 123 to win. They got there amid a steady stream of wickets, five down when Lamb hit the decisive runs with 13.2 overs remaining.

Lord's saw Australia level the series, maintaining an unbeaten record there of more than fifty years. They were carried to victory largely on the back of skipper Border, who made his highest Test score in a magnificent innings of 196. First, though, he had won the toss and offered first use of a drying wicket to England, who had left out the extra batsman, Peter Willey, in order to get a second spinner, Phil Edmonds, into the team.

McDermott, who with Lawson would share fifty-two of the sixty wickets Australia took in the series, took six wickets in England's total of 290, with Gower's innings of 86 enough to have the selectors confirm him as captain for the rest of the series. In their usual fashion they had previously refused to fully commit to Gower, despite victory in India.

The cornerstone of a weather-interrupted Australian reply was Border's fifth-wicket partnership of 216 with Greg Ritchie, who fell short of a century when he became one of Botham's five victims, trapped in front after a couple of short balls. England trailed by 135 and the Lord's crowd was soon treated to the sight of Emburey and Paul Allott at the crease as third-day nightwatchmen after both openers fell. Lawson's four-wicket burst on Monday left England at 98 for 6 before Botham (85) and Gatting (75) added 131. Leg-spinner Bob Holland aimed for the rough outside leg stump and was rewarded with the final four wickets and figures of 5 for 68 as England were all out for 261.

Australia needed 127, the kind of target they struggled with four years earlier, and were having ghastly flashbacks at 65 for 5 on the final day. Border kept a calm head, however, scoring an unbeaten 41 and getting his team home with the loss of only one further wicket.

Three big hundreds dominated the drawn third Test at Trent Bridge after Gower won the toss and batted. It was the captain himself who weighed in most heavily, with picturesque drives and casual pulls and clips off his legs on his way to 166 off 283 balls, seventeen of which went to the boundary. England appeared set for more than 456 after a partnership of 187 between Gower and Gatting (74), whose unlucky run-out while backing up triggered the loss of eight wickets for ninety-eight. Wood's marathon reply, which ended after ten hours with his score on 172, and a spirited and skilful 146 from Ritchie wore down an England attack in which Edmonds and Emburey laboured for 121 overs on a dull, lifeless surface. Few outside the cricketing community had paid too much attention, however, as Wood had battled unbeaten through Saturday's play Instead, their attention had been fixed on Wembley Stadium, where the world's biggest-ever rock concert, Live Aid – the greatest communal event of the decade and one of its defining moments – was in full swing.

Having never seriously threatened to push for victory in Nottingham, England's bowlers put them on top from the first session of the fourth Test at Old Trafford, although another slow pitch did little to aid their cause and helped to ensure that the series remained level.

The toe injury that had spoiled the debut of Yorkshire's Arnold Sidebottom in the previous game led to a recall for Jonathan Agnew, while Wood was unfortunate to be absent injured so soon after recapturing his best form. After the visitors were put in to bat, Edmonds took three wickets on the first afternoon and Botham had a fiery flourish later in the day – both finishing with four wickets in a total of 257.

England closed a rain-affected second day at a commanding 223 for 3 after Gooch's 70 and the beginning of a big partnership between Gatting and Lamb. They had to wait until after lunch on Saturday to resume a stand that reached 156 before Lamb was run out for 67. Gatting, punching his drives and slapping his pull shots, had never looked this assured on home soil and went on to score 160, his first Test century in England. Meanwhile, McDermott took advantage of England's late-order push for quick runs to end up with eight wickets on a most unhelpful pitch.

England set about ramming home their lead of 225 and had taken four wickets by the end of the fourth day, only to be frustrated by rain the following morning and the continuing doggedness of Border, who batted calmly through to an unbeaten 146 in just short of six hours. At the other end, Wayne Phillips spent fifty balls getting off the mark and the series remained tied at 1-1.

A similar pattern developed at Edgbaston, England bowling out Australia for a modest score and taking a big lead but all the while hoping that the rain held off long enough to allow their bowlers to force victory. One of the big differences here, though, was Kent's Richard Ellison, restored to the team in place of Agnew to return match figures of 10 for 79.

Having injured ankle ligaments in the nets early in the season, Ellison had never considered himself in contention for the early Tests but remembered encountering Gower in the Benson and Hedges Cup semi-final and informing him, 'I am going to make you pick me.' He added, 'That wasn't my style really. I was fairly quiet and would never make my own case so for me to say that shows I was determined'.

Ellison had been called up for the fourth Test but omitted on the morning of the match, not entirely to his displeasure. 'I never performed very well at Old Trafford,' he explained. 'Obviously I was disappointed not to play but in the back of my mind there was a concern about my lack of prior form and confidence at Manchester'.

Birmingham rain meant that it took until early on the third day for Australia to conclude their first innings at 335, Wessels and Lawson each scoring half-centuries. Ellison, swinging the ball and bowling a full length to maximise movement, took six of the wickets. England's reply was refreshingly urgent and, against some poor bowling, ruthlessly efficient. Gower unveiled every shot in his collection, being particularly punishing every time Holland got his length even fractionally wrong. The perfect cover drive that brought up his century prompted applause from the bowler and he continued to unfurl a rich tapestry of strokes on his way to a career-best 215, sharing a second-wicket partnership of 331 with the equally relentless Robinson, who scored 148. The new-found confidence of Gatting manifested itself in a 125-ball century that enabled Gower to declare at 595 for 5, although not before Botham had slammed the first ball he faced for six.

With day four approaching its conclusion, Ellison then swept through Australia's top order with four wickets for a single run in a stunning spell of fifteen deliveries, the most notable of which cut back in through Border's defences.

'My fifteen minutes in the sun,' is how Ellison describes it. 'I had a bad cold in the lead-up and Bernard Thomas didn't think I would get through five days. I told Gower I would. In Calcutta I thought I bowled really well and didn't get a wicket in fifty-three overs, but here there were a couple of poor shots played against the swing. I was looking to go across the left-handers and Wood tried to work me to leg and got a leading edge; Holland was lbw as nightwatchman and Wessels chased a wide one and nicked off. The Border ball did the opposite to what I wanted it to do. My biggest memory outside of the performance was the ground swell of noise as I was running in to bowl from the City End. It almost carried you in. It all happened so quickly there was no real time to digest what was going on. The game had changed in a blink of an eye'.

At 37 for 5 with a day left, the visitors needed help from the weather. Rain duly kept them off the field until 2.30pm. With fielders circled around the bat, Phillips had made a stubborn 59 before he forced a ball from Edmonds down on to the foot of Lamb at silly point. Gower grabbed the rebound and square leg umpire David Constant gave his opinion that Phillips was out. Border later argued that it must have been impossible for the umpires to have had no reasonable doubt, even though television replays showed that the decision had been correct. Disheartened, Australia quickly lost their remaining four wickets to finish 142 all out and England took a 2-1 lead.

Gower could not have wished for a better end to the summer. Having already surpassed in the previous game Denis Compton's record for the most runs in a home Ashes series, he added another big century and captained his team to an Ashes-returning victory by an innings and 94 runs.

Australia had helped with a decision to leave out leg-spinner Holland, a selection that would echo back at them twenty-four years later when they omitted Nathan Hauritz for the decisive match at The Oval. Knowing that a draw would be enough to win the series, Gower was blessed by winning the toss and had some early fortune as he and Gooch batted the Australians out of contention with a second-wicket partnership of 351. Gooch was in total command, never offering a chance in a superb 196 in seven hours at the crease. Gower survived early scares before his innings blossomed into a typically flowery 157. England ended the first day at 376 for 3 – having now achieved seven individual scores of 148 or more in the series – and the Ashes were as good as won.

Any disappointment at only ending up with 464 was quickly dissolved by the capture of early Australian wickets and a first-innings lead of 220. With a rest day on the horizon, Gower happily asked Australia to bat again and they were quickly 37 for 3 against the new-ball attack of Botham and Leicestershire's Les Taylor, who had been called up for his first cap in the previous game. Ellison took a fourth wicket before stumps and Monday's sell-out crowd saw him take another four as Australia were polished off for 129 well before lunch.

Border's final act of defiance had been another half-century, but he was the only Australian batsman to bat with any consistent authority throughout the series and his bowling attack had relied too heavily on McDermott and Lawson. England, on the other hand, had four batsmen averaging above fifty-four and four bowlers who captured fifteen or more wickets, including Botham's series-leading haul of thirty-one.

Gower found himself being re-evaluated as a captain, having recovered from the disaster of his first series in charge to achieve victory in India and in an Ashes series. Ellison, who played all his eleven Tests under Gower, said, 'I quite enjoyed him. He was quite relaxed and that made me feel at home. He put a certain amount of trust in you and he would talk about what sort of field you wanted and how you were going to bowl. He wasn't by any means "we are going to do it my way and that is the only way". He allowed you to suggest ideas where there were potential changes he wanted to implement'.

In the glow of such spectacular triumph, Gower would never have guessed how quickly and pitilessly his world was about to be plunged into darkness.

## **13
HEAVEN KNOWS I'M MISERABLE NOW**

'As England's Test team finally sinks into the Caribbean, this place looks like a battlefield of broken noses, wrists, dreams, promises... and Kathy Botham's heart' – Jean Rook, _Daily Express_

'I WAS happy in the haze of a drunken hour,' announced The Smiths' singer Steven Morrissey, whose languid vocal delivery on one of the decade's most recognisable tunes was the pop equivalent of a David Gower cover drive. 'But heaven knows I'm miserable now.' In one line, the man whose Irish working-class upbringing in Manchester could not have been much further from the prep school childhood of the England captain around the same time had foretold the disastrous tour of the West Indies in early 1986.

For sixty glorious minutes England were, if not on top, then matching their opponents. Gower won the toss in the first Test, opted to bat, and openers Graham Gooch and Tim Robinson had begun to silence the crowd at Kingston's Sabina Park by putting thirty-two untroubled runs on the board. Then Robinson failed to get his edge out of the way of a vicious seaming delivery from Patrick Patterson. England folded to defeat inside three days; and – 'stop me if you think that you've heard this one before', as Morrissey would soon be singing – went on to suffer another 5-0 humiliation at the hands of the best team in the world. The individual games were not even close.

'When you are losing by margins as humiliating as we have been it is a fairly daunting task to instil confidence in the team, or even rebuild your own,' was Gower's lament at the end of the series. Only twice did England score more than 300, while Gower's batting average of thirty-seven was the only mark of more than thirty among the touring team.

Yet the captain returned home to more criticism than anyone, the stink of 'voluntary nets' attached to him like body odour. 'Much went wrong... that with firmer captaincy and management might not have,' _Wisden_ recorded. '[England's] lack of commitment was reflected in their attitude to practice, a department in which the West Indies showed them up as amateurs'.

One piece of tour management – that decision to stage an optional practice after an early defeat in Barbados – came to characterise the whole sorry trip in the eyes of many. Gower, Ian Botham and other senior players duly absented themselves from the practice, which was truncated by an hour, supposedly because of a damp surface. According to English newspaper reports, the whole episode 'shocked West Indian observers' used to seeing the commitment of Viv Richards's team.

Three decades later, Gower admitted, 'As a captain of a side you know in your heart of hearts is not good enough against arguably the best side ever assembled, you have got to play mighty well and they have got to play badly to have a chance. Whatever your inspirational team talks you know, and so do the players, you are likely to come second – although we thought we would be a lot better than 5-0'.

It meant that Gower, just a few months after experiencing the highest point in his career, had to endure some of its most wretched months. 'That whole experience was a very tough time for all sorts of reasons. My mother died the week before we went to the Caribbean, I had a funeral to arrange and after I flew out the first thing I thought I needed was a bit of down time. In those days on tour you had a bit of time before the first international.

'That whole tour, on the field and off, there is no manual for that. There are very few books, unless you read Stephen King, that prepare you for those sorts of horrors. At every turn there was something new and ridiculous; sometimes self-inflicted, sometimes not. Anything that could go wrong did go wrong. In among that you have to try to retain an element of self-belief and normality. The crux was Barbados. With so many English fans coming out to watch and having a game that was over in three days, the criticism mounted to new levels. There was one columnist who said, "We saw the England captain out eating last night." Well, you still have to eat, however bad it is. You do realise under those circumstances that the cricket-following part of the nation is not happy, especially people who have paid good money.

'Initial optimism was based on us winning the Ashes and thinking we had a pretty good team. The reality was that we did have a good team but it wasn't good enough. So you have a lot of disgruntled people and as captain you are the focus of their attention. You can go from hero to chump in a hurry'.

As was becoming the norm in the 1980s, the media coverage of the tour focused not just on runs and wickets. When the national team travelled from home shores, they would be accompanied by debate, debacle and tales of debauchery.

The headline-grabber among the batting selections for the tour was Worcestershire left-hander David Smith, previously sacked by Surrey after fall-outs with skipper Roger Knight and a dressing-room scrap with teammate Dave Thomas and who had come close to retiring because of chronic back problems. Of the bowlers, the wild card was Glamorgan's Greg Thomas, whose pace and promise outstripped recent performance, having taken only thirty-four Championship wickets in an injury-hit 1985 season.

The more potentially problematic selections, though, were those of Graham Gooch, John Emburey, Peter Willey and Les Taylor, the South African 'rebels'. An England B tour of Bangladesh had already been called off in early January – as the players prepared to board their plane at Heathrow – because of the South African connections of Bill Athey, Kim Barnett, Martyn Moxon and Chris Smith. Now, proving that the controversial 1982 tour was far from buried, protestors threatened to dog the tourists, who arrived in Barbados to placards reading, 'Cricket, Yes. Rebels, No'.

Some airport workers refused to handle the baggage of the England team, while Antigua's deputy prime minister, Lester Bird, announced that he would boycott the matches. Armed guards were employed to accompany the team around the islands amid rumours that 5,000 protestors would meet the team in Trinidad. It proved to be a wild over-estimation and by the time England paid their second visit there the air had gone out of the protests.

It was Matthew Engel of _The Guardian_ and Geoff Boycott, working as a journalist, who experienced most problems in Trinidad. Arriving ahead of the players they were informed they needed a visa and were placed under house arrest for a night. After a prolonged exchange of telexes and phone calls they were allowed into the country, but they and all other media members were ordered to pay £120 for a visa that they had never previously required. 'Bring them home!' urged the _Daily Express_ who felt the incident was symptomatic of a wider plot to unsettle the tour party. 'We can rightly expect our cricketers to take the field against a fearsome battery of fast bowlers. We have no right to expect them to put up with this nonsense'.

Gooch's agitation about the situation grew throughout the tour, perhaps not surprising when confronted by headlines such as that in the _Trinidad Express_ , urging him to 'go jump in a lake'. Gower described him as 'fretting' – as opposed to Willey's obvious lack of concern – and it got to the point where Gooch seriously considered quitting the tour before travelling to Bird's island of Antigua, an action he eventually decided against.

Gooch felt he had already made clear his political position when selected for the tour. 'Let me say that I strongly oppose apartheid,' he'd stated. 'Nothing I have said has been intended to be contemptuous of anti-apartheid opinion in the West Indies or anywhere else in the world.' Now he was desperate to respond to the politician's false interpretation that he had 'regretted the circumstances which took him there in the first place'. He was talked out of it by manager Tony Brown and the TCCB, who announced, 'While regretting that the statements should have appeared following Graham Gooch's own clarifying statement of August 27 last year – made at the request of the West Indies Cricket Board and the TCCB, which resulted in all obstacles to the tour being removed – the TCCB does not believe that any useful purpose would be served by reopening the issue. Gooch's request has therefore not been granted. Though not happy with the board's decision, he has for the good of the team accepted it and hopes his position will be interpreted correctly'.

Gooch felt that the TCCB were 'content to allow my integrity to be besmirched' and eventually wrote in his autobiography that he should have told them to 'stuff it' and pulled out of the team.

The tour menu began with what should have been an unremarkable appetiser against the Windward Islands on St Vincent. Yet the absence of Gower and Botham, who were pictured out on a boat while their team-mates were losing by seven wickets, turned it into the perfect meal for the newspapers to sink their teeth into. Inevitably, Gower was portrayed as some kind of playboy. What was not taken into consideration was that the captain was 'emotionally drained' after the death of his mother a week earlier, which he could justifiably have used as a reason to join the tour a week late, thereby avoiding all the criticism. Yet allowing himself to be pictured at play with Botham was still a little naïve, especially as he was well aware of the new journalistic environment in which overseas tours operated.

Gower was to be forcibly reminded of that. 'Some of the stories were such that we were left wondering if we were actually on the same tour as [the reporters],' he concluded. Already at a difficult stage in his relationship with his girlfriend of the time, he was reported at various points during the tour to be involved with friend and team-mate Paul Downton's wife, Ali, and an air hostess. The first was ridiculous enough to be laughed off, although he had been caught on camera kissing her on the cheek – at the Downtons' wedding! Of the second, Gower admitted, 'There was at least more truth in that story than in the previous one'.

As in New Zealand two years earlier, there was no shortage of willing 'witnesses' to testify to the players' antics, however circumstantial the evidence. Frances Edmonds was informed by a chambermaid at one hotel that the team room was no more than 'one man's brothel'. Husband Phil suggested wryly that the position of assistant tour manager should be exchanged for a libel lawyer. Botham would certainly have been able to keep him occupied.

As always, a story about the most famous cricketer in the world was the prize for any reporter – true or not. Hot on the heels of claims that he didn't want to play for England any more came comments from his estranged personal manager Tim Hudson – the man who'd attempted to turn his client into a Hollywood star – that Botham had taken cannabis. Then, with the tour approaching its closing days, a former Miss Barbados by the name of Lindy Field told the _News of the World_ about a cocaine-riddled night of lust with Botham after a dinner party with Mick Jagger. Sex and drugs and rock and roll all in one story. A touch of farce, too, with claims that the passionate pair had broken the bed.

Botham was delivering almost as many denials as bowling spells on this tour and, according to David Smith, 'was frightened to move for fear of what was going to be said next'. On this occasion, Botham pointed out that his father-in-law had been present at the dinner party in question and added, 'If only a quarter of the things said about me were true I would be completely pickled by now'.

Emburey recalled the situation as a 'never-ending press vendetta' against Botham. Admitting that players could grow weary of Botham's antics, he added, 'We all had a great deal of sympathy for him on this tour. We all knew that the infamous beauty queen revelations were a set-up'.

Meanwhile, TCCB secretary Donald Carr sounded a note of exasperation when saying, 'Nothing seems to be going right. Wild stories like this can't help the team's morale.' Tony Brown hedged his bets a bit more by saying, 'I would imagine if [the stories] are proved to be correct there could well be some disciplinary action against him'.

Into the eye of this particular hurricane came Botham's wife Kathy. On the same front pages that were reporting US president Ronald Reagan's plan to launch retaliatory missile attacks on Libya, the Bothams were pictured happily reunited; a woman standing by her man. 'It's much easier to cope with these things when you are together,' Kathy said.

She was interviewed by the _Daily Express_ 's Jean Rook, the queen of Fleet Street's female columnists, who described the environment she discovered on arrival in the Caribbean. 'The Press here is divided into gentlemen cricket writers and others,' she wrote. 'A bloody non-stop battle rages between those good and simple souls who want to get on with reporting the game and the rest, swinging from hotel trees with their Nikons and binoculars on an entirely different game, and on anything but a cricket ball'.

Events with the ball made no more comfortable reading than those adorning the news pages. Having lost to the Windwards, England's full line-up failed to chase down 116 in 130 minutes to beat the Leeward Islands, drawing the game on 94 for 8.

Then they suffered a damaging blow in the build-up to the first Test when Mike Gatting had his nose shattered in the first one-day international in Kingston when he failed in an attempted hook against Malcolm Marshall. The ball, which ricocheted into the stumps, was even said to have had a piece of bone embedded in it when examined by Joel Garner.

Another portent of what was to come materialised in the form of Patrick Patterson, who – through a successful period in the Shell Shield – had clearly developed into a very different bowler from the innocuous figure who had played for Lancashire the previous summer. Wickets with his fourth and eighth balls in international cricket set high expectations for the first Test a few days later, promise upon which he would deliver spectacularly.

Gower had insisted before the match, 'They have the firepower but we have the expertise. It's brains against brawn.'. The muscular Patterson proved that, even if true, it was more than enough. On a wicket that proved as dangerous as its patchy appearance threatened, he used his 6ft 2in frame to bowl with pace and venom and ended with seven wickets, assisted by a sightscreen that was too low for its purpose. It was probably the fastest bowling England had faced since Holding a decade earlier and represented yet another addition to the seemingly endless West Indian production line.

England's collapse came quickly after the dismissal of Robinson midway through the first morning. Gooch top-scored with a half-century before falling to a lifter from Marshall. Smith was out without scoring on his debut before Thomas, also playing his first Test, was punished after some early misfortune with the ball. The accurate Richard Ellison had the most success, five wickets, as the West Indies batted cautiously to 307, a lead of 148. Once Gooch and Robinson had departed without a run to their names, only Willey's typically unyielding 70 forced the West Indies openers to pad up to complete the formalities of a ten-wicket win.

When Robinson was taken ill before the second Test in Trinidad, England were grateful for having called up Wilf Slack to replace Middlesex colleague Gatting, having set off on tour with only two openers. Slack, who had scored 1,900 first-class runs in the summer of 1985 and previously played for the Windward Islands for three seasons, was summoned to the Caribbean from a successful B tour of Sri Lanka, where he had been averaging more than fifty-two. Even though Slack was clearly in form, there were others on the B tour scoring even more runs, Bill Athey and Chris Smith. Either offered the safer option of a replacement with Test experience, as would have discarded openers Chris Broad or Chris Tavaré.

Slack and Gooch both went early and it was a rapid, but rain-interrupted, fourth-wicket partnership of 106 between Gower (66) and Lamb (62) that accounted for the bulk of another disappointing total of 176. Each man hit eleven boundaries before six wickets fell in ninety minutes.

Haynes and Richardson led the reply with a stand of 150, Botham's wildness and ill-conceived persistence with the short ball in contrast to the tight and disciplined Ellison. Richardson went on to three figures before falling to Emburey, whose restoration to the team was rewarded with 5 for 78 and the first of six consecutive dismissals of the West Indies' centurion. Marshall added 62 valuable runs to give the West Indies a 223-run lead, which looked even more unassailable when Slack was run out without scoring.

Courtney Walsh, in for the injured Holding, removed the vital pair of Gower and Gooch before the loss of three more wickets early on the fourth day effectively ended the contest. Walsh and Marshall each had four victims and only a two-hour last-wicket partnership of 72 between Ellison and Thomas, defying the fast bowlers with textbook forward defensive strokes, delayed the inevitable. The West Indies reached their victory target of 93 for the loss of three batsmen.

The loss of fifteen wickets on the third day resulted in an innings defeat in the third Test in Barbados. Ironically, it had followed England's best day of the series, when they reduced the West Indies from 269 for 2 at the close of day one to 418 all out, Thomas using the second new ball effectively to finish with four wickets. Richardson had once again been the star batsman with a free-flowing 160, full of power and timing off front and back foot.

England rebounded from the early loss of Robinson, caught off his gloves, to close on 110 for 1. Yet when Gower's accomplished innings ended at 66 the procession began. Gooch fell after crawling past the half-century mark and a mixture of bad shots, unplayable deliveries and questionable decisions saw England all out for 189 and asked to follow on.

Patterson, back to the fearsome form of the first Test, bowled Gooch and Robinson, whose 43 was easily his best score of the series. After suffering from eye problems early in the tour, Robinson was judged to be struggling on the more unpredictable Caribbean wickets, having perfected a back-foot style that worked well on the true bounce and pace of his home wicket at Trent Bridge. Gower and Botham both fell lazily to Garner as England ended the day six down. Downton and Emburey managed to stave off defeat for a while with a 50-partnership.

'The West Indies were something else,' Robinson recalled. 'It's hard to explain how good they were. Courtney Walsh couldn't get in the side, they were that good. There was no respite from it. In India you had just one bloke to worry about; you could see him off and then you had a chance. If you saw off Marshall they brought on Patterson or Garner. From a batting point of view they don't get as much credit as they should do. They just batted, bowled and fielded better than us'.

England's chairman of selectors, Peter May, was far from happy. Having watched the game during a visit from England, he urged the team to show greater determination and was said to have questioned their attitude. Brown defended his team and assistant manager Bob Willis, who organised practice, but May was hardly alone in his observations and had more right than most to express them.

Questioned about his position, Gower replied, 'I have no intention of giving in, whatever happens on the rest of this tour. I took the job on totally accepting the hassles that it entails, and one of the hassles is that now and again you lose the odd game'.

Meanwhile, the media had reserved much of their criticism for Botham, who had responded to his dismissal in the second innings of the second Test by making a gesture of pulling a toilet chain in the direction of the press box. But now even the tour selection committee were questioning whether he was still worth his place in the team for the fourth Test in Trinidad. Gower was thought by many to have been going easy on his friend and even the skipper knew there was truth in that. 'I admittedly pandered to his whims and allowed him the luxury of too many slips and gullies,' he commented. Team newcomer Smith recalled Willis warning him that there was 'one rule for Both and another for the rest of us'. The captain's loyalty kept the all-rounder in the team for the fourth Test, but only after Gower had made it clear what a fine line he was walking. Botham's response was his best bowling of the series.

England had some encouragement from an innings of 41 by Smith as they folded for 200 before Botham took 5 for 71 in the West Indies' total of 312. Batting down at number five, Viv Richards made his first major contribution, 87 off 110 balls, including eleven fours and a six. Accepting that England were going to bowl wide of the off stump in order to prevent him playing his favoured array of whips and pulls, he settled for shredding the six-man off-side field instead.

Trailing by 112, England again had no answer to hostile bowling on a green and deliberately under-prepared pitch. The relatively unscarred Smith, playing for the first time since the opening Test and displaying more appetite in comparison to his team-mates, top-scored again with 32 in his team's total of 150. The West Indies completed their ten-wicket win with more than an hour of day three remaining.

All that was left now – beyond the post-tour recriminations – was a Richards valedictory on his home island of Antigua. The crowd in St John's were treated to the fastest Test century in balls faced (56), a blistering second-innings effort that landed the final demoralising blow upon an England team who had just made 300 for only the second time in the series. The multiple men posted on the boundary as Gower tried to delay a declaration might as well have been among the 5,000 worshippers in the stands for all their effectiveness. Richards, using violin bow as much as sledgehammer, hit seven sixes and as many fours, before declaring with his own score on 110 off 58 balls.

Having been put in on day one, the West Indies had seen Haynes score a solid and deserved century to build the platform from which Marshall (76), Harper (60) and Holding (73) launched their own fireworks. England began their pursuit of their opponents' 474 with their best opening partnership of the season, 127 between Gooch and Slack. Both men fell in a flurry of wickets after reaching their fifties and with the promising Smith missing because of back problems, Gower held the rest of the innings together with 90 responsible and attractive runs.

After Richards closed his team's second innings with a lead of 410, Gooch's 51 was the only substantial score in England's 178 as they completed the tour without a single first-class century. Harper took three wickets, his four in the match being the only ones among England's 100 to fall in the series not accounted for by the fast bowlers. Marshall and Garner led that group with twenty-seven apiece, while Botham was the only England seamer to make it into double figures. His eleven left him one behind Dennis Lillee's world record of 355 Test wickets.

And so to those recriminations, some of them from uncomfortably close to home. Frances Edmonds said her husband had noticed a 'lack of determination and leadership'. Smith told of a 'total lack of togetherness' and had been surprised at 'how relaxed everything was and our total lack of preparation for taking on the best team in the world'. He claimed that senior players had been slow to offer advice, with the exception of the experienced team-mate who told him to make sure he didn't get into any trouble because easier opposition, New Zealand, would soon be arriving in England.

Smith added that Willis had been too close to the men who had recently been team-mates, while _Wisden_ said the former skipper 'lacked the imagination or initiative to make the best of poor facilities' when it came to organising practice.

Willis's own memories of the tour are no more positive 'My duties were collecting cricket balls and carrying the bowling machine around the Caribbean,' he recalled. 'I didn't get on with the manager, Tony Brown, particularly well. We weren't peas in a pod by any means. I'd played with most of them a few years before so it was difficult to lay down the law about how they should practise and so forth. It is obviously not enjoyable losing 5-0 but when you have had no say in selection of the side it is quite difficult to be particularly supportive to some of the guys who you didn't feel were giving their best'.

_Wisden_ would also question the players' attitude. 'For the last month of the tour too many of the team, sub-consciously or otherwise, gave the appearance of scoring off the days before they could return to England,' the publication's tour report argued. 'At nearly £900 a week per head, they owed the Test selectors, and the British public, a good deal more than that'.

Inevitably, the original tour selection was questioned, with the choice of Thomas and Smith – and subsequently Slack – described by many as too adventurous. The untested quality of Thomas was said to have placed too much burden on Botham's declining skills, especially in a four-man attack. The absence of the experienced Graham Dilley, who had been on five previous tours, or Norman Cowans, who had taken seventy-three wickets in 1985, was unfathomable to some.

Everyone, it was pointed out, lost to the West Indies. But no one else had managed to lose ten times in a row. Gower had been taunted throughout the tour by crowds singing a local hit record, 'Captain, Your Ship is Sinking'. All he could do was admit, 'The ship is well and truly sunk and lying twenty fathoms deep'.

## **14
LAND OF CONFUSION**

'It's much easier now for one man's home to become another man's castle' – former US senator Herb Kohl

IT'S unlikely that the Senator for Wisconsin was thinking of the 1986 English summer when he made the comment above, but that was the season that proved emphatically that the days when England could expect to brush aside visiting teams such as India and New Zealand were long gone. They were beaten 2-0 by India and 1-0 by New Zealand, the first time they had ever lost two home series in the same year. Yet such was the condition of England cricket that the results were not even the most newsworthy aspect of the year. The most predictable perhaps.

Ian Botham was banned for much of the season after publicly confessing his enjoyment of the occasional joint. David Gower was removed from the captaincy on the back of the thrashing England had taken in the Caribbean and India's achievement of their first victory at Lord's. Graham Gooch was given five opening partners in the space of six Tests and nine players shared the three seam bowling positions, with the same three never picked twice.

Botham first. Two years had passed since the _Mail on Sunday_ 's claims of marijuana use prompted him to sue for libel. In the meantime, early in 1985, he had been fined £100 in Scunthorpe Magistrates' Court after pleading guilty to the possession of a small amount of cannabis, 2.19 grams, found in his home. That had not exactly helped his legal case and an out-of-court settlement was eventually agreed upon – according to the newspaper, in order to save the sport 'further embarrassment'.

Part of the agreement was that Botham would put his name to a first-person piece admitting that he had smoked marijuana 'at various times in the past', in order to 'get off the sometimes fearful treadmill of being an international celebrity'. The article hit the _Mail on Sunday_ 's front page on 18 May. 'My big hope is that I can continue to play for my country,' he said after publication. 'All I have admitted is that I smoked a few joints in my late teens and early twenties. Who hasn't? It's all in the past'.

Not in the view of the TCCB, it wasn't. Having been vocal in their support of the Sports Council's campaign against drugs, English cricket's governing body dropped him from the one-day international series for which he had previously been selected and charged him on four counts: bringing cricket into disrepute by using drugs; prejudicing the interests of cricket by writing his article admitting it; admitting in the article things he had denied in the past; and writing the article without the consent of his county employers. After a seven-hour hearing he was duly found guilty and banned from all cricket from 29 May to 31 July.

'I thought it was ridiculous,' was Botham's view, feeling he was unfairly being made an example of. Unhappy at some of the 'hypocritical' comments he was seeing from cricketers and cricket writers, he 'seriously considered packing it all in there and then'.

The explanation of TCCB chairman Raman Subba Row was that 'the game's taken enough'. He announced, 'It's time for a fresh start. The slate is being wiped clean. We don't want to go digging around in the past any more but I expect players to realise the standards we are setting them'.

Gower, whose fate as captain would soon be decided, had already been made aware of those requirements, acknowledging that 'the board are determined to improve standards on and off the field'. It was no secret that the unhappy events in the West Indies were weighing more heavily in the consciousness of the TCCB than the Gower-led successes against India and Australia. Victory in the Ashes, some rather unfairly claimed, had been down to a handful of exceptional individual performances rather than any strategic accomplishment by the skipper.

John Emburey defends Gower, insisting, 'Losing 5-0 on the West Indies tour was nothing to do with his captaincy.' He argued, 'Those Test matches go against his record as a captain, but that's bullshit. You have to take into account the team you are playing against and the players you have. What the selectors should have asked was: did David make the right decisions on the field and in the dressing room? Judge him on how he led the side not on how the team performed because that was out of his control. We weren't as good as them. We had a pretty weak bowling attack and were always going to struggle to bowl them out. It was a phenomenal West Indies batting line-up and all the bowlers could make runs too. When we did have them in trouble you would find that Marshall would get a fifty or Holding would slog runs. We couldn't finish them off'.

Less charitable observers suggested that Gower's style of laid-back leadership was fine when things were going well but looked ineffectual when things went against him – as they did for most captains when up against the West Indies. Such situations 'demanded qualities he could not supply', wrote Neville Scott and Nick Cook. There was always the fear that a captain so blessed by natural talent could find it difficult to empathise with team-mates struggling to make the most of lesser ability in difficult circumstances. Geniuses of the game from Grace to Sobers to Botham had been subjected to the same doubts about their leadership.

Frances Edmonds recalled the team arriving in Antigua for the closing matches of the tour without 'the slightest indication of leadership or discipline'. She observed, 'Attire is sloppy. There is not a single character who seems willing just to stay there and battle in the sun for a few hours'.

_Wisden_ 's criticism of Gower was no less stinging. 'Instead of the strong leader England needed in those crucial weeks, they had a dilettante. Regrettably, it was not only that he had no faith in practice – a weakness exacerbated by Ian Botham's presence – but sometimes he seemed even to lack interest'.

Gower, of course, cared deeply. There were times in the Caribbean when he felt the weight of disappointment acutely but endeavoured to keep such moments hidden from view. Believing that nothing was served by seeing the captain moping, he followed this basic leadership mantra: 'You should try to create an atmosphere that allows people to relax enough to perform at their best, and only when they don't do you intervene.' As usual, he refused to believe that every player in a team should be treated the same. 'I wasn't a dictatorial captain,' he said, expecting bowlers to have a better idea of how to set their fields than he did. 'I envisaged an open house'.

Even though he was re-appointed England captain only for two one-day internationals and the first Test against India, Gower insisted, 'I don't feel as though I am in the dock.' Yet the selectors had delivered a clear message that he was required to instil greater discipline and offer more demonstrable leadership. In typically flippant style, his reaction was to turn up for the Test in a T-shirt bearing the legend, 'I'm in charge.' He admitted, 'That sort of thing doesn't always wash well with authority. But that was me, I am afraid'.

The selectors had ignored the signs of a promising opening pairing of Gooch and Wilf Slack in the Caribbean and put their faith in Tim Robinson, despite only seventy-two runs in eight innings against the West Indies. Put in to bat on a cloudy day at Lord's, Gooch and Robinson put on 66 before England lost three quick wickets after lunch to the energetic medium pace of Chetan Sharma. Thereafter they were indebted to a controlled sixth Test hundred by Gooch and Derek Pringle's maiden fifty to post 294. India replied with caution against the accuracy of Richard Ellison, Graham Dilley and John Emburey, with Vengsarkar finding enough support from the last two batsmen to progress from 81 to an unbeaten 126, becoming the first overseas batsman to score three Test hundreds at headquarters.

The fourth day saw England's batting deficiencies exposed by twenty-year-old spinner Maninder Singh, who took 3 for 9 in more than twenty overs, and Kapil Dev, who dismissed Gooch, Robinson and Gower while conceding one run – the first to a nasty lifter and the other two pinned lbw without moving their feet. A total of 180 left India needing to score 134 on the final day. Kapil saw them home for the loss of five wickets when he slammed Edmonds for three fours and a leg-side six – his first win in his twenty-first game as captain of his country.

Four days after England's footballers had jeopardised their hopes of progress in the World Cup finals in Mexico with a miserable draw against Morocco – leaving them needing to beat Poland in their final group game – the cricket team found itself at a similar decisive juncture. The selectors had left themselves little room to manoeuvre with their one-game appointment of Gower, who felt they had been unfairly influenced by tabloid tales from the Caribbean but had conceded, 'I know the public and selectors will not tolerate any more failure'.

The players were still coming off the field at Lord's when Peter May approached Gatting. 'We want you to be captain of England,' he blurted out. 'Do you want it?'

'When do I have to say yes?' was Gatting's reply. 'Have you told David yet?'

'There's no point telling him if you say no'.

'How long have I got?'

'About three minutes'.

Gatting duly accepted and Gower, facetious to the last, allowed himself to be photographed handing over the 'I'm in charge' T-shirt to his successor.

'I'm stunned,' said Gower. 'When I arrived at the ground this morning I honestly didn't think about losing the job. As captain I don't know if I could have done much more'.

Keith Fletcher knew exactly what Gower was going through and was not afraid to speak out. 'From what I've heard about David Gower's dismissal it was diabolical – as usual,' he declared. 'The selectors have got to learn how to deal with players if they want to get the best out of them. They may want David to take charge again one day and he could quite rightly tell them to stuff it after that. Sometimes it seems as if no thought goes into man-management'.

Almost three decades later, Gower admitted, 'I wouldn't say I was harshly dealt with because we were losing. If you lose a good hard competitive series, that's one thing. If you get trollied 5-0, even though there are reasons that make sense of that, people look at you. They gave me the first Test against India and we managed to lose that'.

While pleased for Gatting, county team-mate John Emburey could not help wondering whether he might have been the one being offered the leadership had Middlesex not reacted as they did to his participation in the South African tour four years earlier. 'During that winter I got a telegram from Middlesex inviting me to become vice-captain under Mike Brearley in his last year, so then it was odds on I would have been captain when Mike retired,' he explained. 'When I got back from South Africa they took the vice-captaincy away from me. I was the only player from all those who went who was punished by his club. Gatt became vice-captain and then captain in '83. I felt bitter towards the club for that and perhaps resented Mike – a little jealous I suppose. I felt if I had become Middlesex captain I had a chance to become England captain. Then I was appointed vice-captain under Gatt, which just didn't make sense to me. I still look back and am resentful to the club for doing what they did and I let the committee men know that too'.

A change of captain made no difference to England's fortunes. In fact, after losing by 279 runs on the fourth day at Headingley things looked even bleaker. Gower had withdrawn with a shoulder injury, wicketkeeper Bruce French made his debut and veteran left-arm seamer John Lever was recalled to take advantage of local atmospherics, but Gatting could have done without losing the toss and seeing India have first use of a wicket likely to deteriorate. Encouraged to have dismissed India for 272, Gatting was then horrified to see his team crumble to 102 all out, especially after covering for Botham's absence by playing an extra batsman. Roger Binny, revelling in swinging conditions, took four wickets in the space of thirty-seven balls.

Lever's recall was justified with a three-wicket spell that reduced India to 70 for 5 and hauled England back into the game. But Vengsarkar, who scored 61 on a tricky surface in the first innings, was masterful once more, again reaching a century with only the tail for company. England were set 408 to win, but lost six wickets before the close of play on Saturday and the remaining four in the first seventy-five minutes of the fourth morning.

_Wisden_ appeared no more affronted by England's performance than by the new crowd phenomenon of the 'wave', which television viewers had seen performed in Mexico's World Cup stadia. Its report of the Test would complain, 'The mindless imitation of the football crowds... did not help the batsmen's concentration and left Headingley's reputation as a ground for cricket lovers as much in tatters as the reputation of the England team.'

The maligned players at least managed to avoid a record-equalling eighth consecutive defeat in a drawn game at Edgbaston, where the sides tied on first innings and were both in with a chance of winning on the final day. Individually, the game was a triumph for Gatting, whose unbeaten 183 was his first century as England's leader, and Sharma, who took ten wickets in the match.

Five team changes – including debuts for Kent batsman Mark Benson and Worcestershire seamer Neil Radford and recalls for Gower, Neil Foster and Phil Edmonds – meant England had used nineteen players in the three games. 'Test lottery', said one headline. Benson, playing in his sole Test, was a late call-up after injury ruled out Wayne Larkins. Among those discarded was Lamb, who had played forty-five Tests and at times seemed undroppable. It was a selection that might have been interpreted as a message to Gower, both as a reminder of the tough decisions he should have made as captain and as a warning over his own position.

England duly lost Gooch and Bill Athey without scoring and, after Gower's departure for 49, Gatting found enough support down the order to extend his assertive innings to 294 balls, twenty of which went for four and two for six. India matched England's 390 with consistent scores through the order and some disappointing bowling from the home team, before Sharma tore through the England middle order for a six-wicket haul that left his team needing 236 to win in eighty-four overs. Gavaskar and Srikkanth opened with 58 in thirty-nine minutes before Edmonds (4 for 31) applied the brakes. The game was poised at 126 for 5 at tea on the last day, but a delay of forty-eight minutes for rain and bad light cost both teams a shot at victory.

The second series of the summer was prefaced by rumour and conjecture – of a cricketing nature for once. Gooch's availability for the upcoming Ashes tour was being questioned, with suggestions that he would stay at home with his young family. 'It's all speculation,' he said at the first Test against New Zealand, a game he had originally asked to miss. 'I haven't thought about the Australian tour and I haven't asked about it as yet – though no one likes being away from home for a long time'.

On the field, New Zealand were about to win a series in England at the tenth attempt. Richard Hadlee, who continued to play for Nottinghamshire rather than the touring team between Tests, took nineteen wickets to finish the series on 334, third most in the game's history. His 6 for 80 was responsible for restricting England to 307 at Lord's after the recalled Martyn Moxon (74) and Gower (62) had done most to put England in a solid position. Hadlee also struck French on the back of the head, requiring the wicketkeeper to have stitches and leaving him too unwell to keep wicket. After Athey took the gloves for two overs, the familiar figure of Bob Taylor emerged from the pavilion, with the blessing of opposing skipper Jeremy Coney. Taylor was there as a hospitality host for match sponsor Cornhill but happened to have his gloves in the car and managed to borrow the remainder of his kit. No one would have guessed he'd been retired from cricket for two years. Martin Crowe's batting was no less immaculate as he constructed a graceful and increasingly aggressive 106, sharing a stand of 210 with Bruce Edgar (83) as New Zealand achieved a lead of thirty-five.

After Hadlee struck an early blow and slow left-armer Evan Gray bowled both Athey and Gower behind their legs, England were grateful for rain and then a commanding innings by Gooch for their safety. Becoming increasingly adventurous, Gooch batted for more than seven hours and struck twenty-two fours before eventually falling for 183 out of England's 295 for 6.

He would clearly be a big loss if he chose not to tour Australia. Gower, however, was considered by some to be less important, given his indifferent form and gloomy demeanour since losing the captaincy. Those who wanted him dropped, though, had to admit gratitude for his 71 in the first innings at Old Trafford, where only he and Athey, who also answered his critics with a half-century, stood up effectively to the New Zealand attack.

The return of Athey had been a characteristic Gatting selection. A man who bore a British bulldog tattoo, he mirrored the overt commitment and fighting spirit of the captain and added versatility to the batting order. Having not played for England since 1981, he would play nineteen Tests under Gatting.

Meanwhile, Hadlee was dominant for New Zealand, rising to the challenge of performing on his home county ground. He took six wickets in the first innings as England were bowled out for 256, ended up with ten in the match and contributed a valuable 68 in support of unlikely centurion John Bracewell as his team rallied from 144 for 5 to amass 413. Greg Thomas, in his first home Test, and Warwickshire's Gladstone Small, on his debut, formed an inexperienced new-ball attack but Gatting received criticism for allowing the game to drift away from his team.

Small, who took three wickets, had been selected four years after being called up as cover on the eve of the Edgbaston Test against Pakistan following an injury to Derek Pringle. It was Ian Greig who was chosen on that occasion, although Small recalled, 'I was suffering from bronchitis and one of my Warwickshire team-mates had driven me down from Southport. I think if I had been 100 per cent I might have been selected.' Placement in Melbourne on a scholarship scheme the following winter had given him the opportunity to join the touring England team for net sessions. 'I got to spend quite a bit of time bowling at the likes of Botham and Gower. It gave me a useful insight into international cricket and an appetite to get into the big time. It was my driving force and when I was back on the county treadmill I had that bigger picture in mind. By 1986 I was more ready than I would have been in '82'.

Most of Monday was lost to bad weather, but Tuesday saw England fold, with the exception of a somewhat eccentric 75 from Emburey. New Zealand had plenty of time to score the 74 runs needed to complete an eight-wicket victory.

As England looked to rescue the series at The Oval, there was only one man on most people's mind as the potential deliverer of salvation. Ian Botham had been available for selection for the second Test after completion of his suspension, but was overlooked because of lack of match practice. After a couple of knockabout games he had marked his return to first-class cricket in nothing less than the headline-grabbing manner expected of him – an unbeaten 104 in sixty-four minutes, including seven sixes, against Worcestershire at Weston-super-Mare. Six days later he set a Sunday League record by battering Northamptonshire's bewildered bowlers for an unbeaten 175 at Wellingborough.

'Some of the people involved didn't want to pick him,' Gatting recalled. 'I said to them, "You've got to be joking."' Yet questioned by reporters about Botham's early return, Gatting offered unflattering comparisons with New Zealand's match-winner, 'If you took Richard Hadlee out of the New Zealand side, they would miss him, but then he is more dedicated than Ian Botham. Ian can bat with the best of them but we are more worried about his bowling. He has not done that much lately to come straight back into the Test arena'.

Botham had also used his time out of the England team to further upset the authorities. He'd been forced to write to the selectors to apologise after calling them 'gin-slinging dodderers' at a lunch in Manchester and suggesting that after each selection meeting they were 'given more pink gin and put back into the loft with a sheet over their heads'. Fortunately for his hopes of a recall, they accepted the comment had been delivered in a light-hearted context and was not intended to go beyond those in attendance. His comeback, therefore, was duly confirmed for The Oval. Keen to ensure Botham understood his place, however, May explained, 'This is a one-off situation. We have chosen a side designed to win this particular match'.

Small remembered feeling grateful that Botham's return was diverting attention away from the newcomers to the side, while Gatting noted that 'the atmosphere in the dressing room changed immediately'. Edmonds added, '[Botham] breezed into the dressing room and immediately stimulated a more positive approach in most players. His facility to bat in Tests as if they were benefit matches certainly engenders a degree more confidence in his team-mates'.

Lamb had also been restored, giving the team an altogether more familiar feel. With the weather uncertain, Gatting stuck New Zealand in and was reasonably satisfied with an outcome of 287 all out, although it could have been even better for England had they found a way through the stern defence of Wright, who scored 119.

Inevitably, though, it was Botham who took the spotlight. Brought on to bowl at the Pavilion End he tossed a few warm-up deliveries to Small, while commentator Richie Benaud reminded viewers that he had 'such ability that he is able to do anything at all'. Indeed. Botham ran in and delivered a short delivery slanting across left-hander Edgar, who fended it to Gooch at second slip. Botham disappeared under a tidal wave of team-mates, one of whom, Lamb, asked him, 'Who writes your scripts?' In the BBC commentary box, Tom Graveney chuckled, 'I have never seen anything like it in my life. Oh, dear, oh dear.' Working up a head of steam, Botham then had Jeff Crowe lbw with a big in-swinger on the final ball of his second over, leaving him as the owner of the most wickets in Test cricket. He added another when Coney gloved a hook to Gooch.

Botham would say he had been spurred on by the assumption of many that his enforced absence would have blunted the edge of his bowling. 'You'd have thought I had been away for two years on a desert island, not two months,' he said. 'It was Roy of the Rovers stuff taking a wicket with my first ball. It's usually a loosener that goes for four'.

Gatting and Gower spent the third day compiling a partnership of 215 and achieving individual centuries. The former was characteristically nimble against the spinners and drove with force on his way to 121, while the latter progressed to 131 through touch and timing. When Gower steered the ball to third man to reach three figures it was his first first-class century of an unhappy summer. Typically, Botham marked his first innings back in the team with some bold fourth-morning strokes, rattling up 59 off 36 balls and taking 24 off one over from seamer Derek Stirling, to take England's lead into three figures – only for rain to wipe out the remainder of the match. Not even Botham could master the weather.

## **15
EVERY LOSER WINS**

'There are only three things wrong with this England team: They can't bat, they can't bowl and they can't field' – Martin Johnson writing in _The Independent_

ONCE it had become clear that England's winter tour to the Caribbean was going to produce nothing but poor results and equally bad press, the notion of appointing a football-style team manager had gathered momentum. Summer speculation about the extent of the powers offered to such a 'supremo' had ranged from a mere coaching role to full responsibility for team selection. Ray Illingworth, one of England's most successful post-war captains, was the popular choice for the position, but his interest in the job appeared to hinge on being offered the full-control option. As it became clear that Peter May's selection committee were in no hurry to give up the positions that so strongly defined them, Illingworth's candidacy lost impetus.

Unsurprisingly, David Gower, whose supposedly ineffectual captaincy in the West Indies had offered much evidence to those advocating the new position, was unconvinced of the necessity of such an appointment. 'People say we need someone to crack the whip over net practice,' he said. 'Nets have limited value'.

The TCCB felt differently, however, and had turned their attention to former England batsman and gifted amateur footballer Micky Stewart. 'He ran things more like a football team, which we all responded to,' said batsman David Smith, who had played for him at Surrey. 'Micky would climb on a chair at lunch or tea and explain our tactics for the next session, which we all loved, most of us being football types'.

The talk of flip charts, team talks and individual player targets emanating from The Oval dressing room was clearly to the liking of Lord's, who offered him the role of assistant manager for the winter tour of Australia. Knowing that he would carry a greater degree of accountability for results than others who had previously held that title, Stewart insisted upon – and was granted – the title of team manager. 'The first priority was organisation, preparation and discipline,' he recalled.

It was, in all honesty, only a small step down the road of revolution. 'Micky could bring in his football style of management, but we still only had him, a tour manager, a scorer and a physio,' said Surrey wicketkeeper Jack Richards, who would join his county boss on tour. 'You still only had one person to talk to when it came down to cricketing matters. We were still unprepared and unprofessional'.

According to batsman Bill Athey, it was at least an initial move towards the coaching network that surrounds today's Test teams. 'Micky had very forthright opinions and you could say he sowed the seeds of everything becoming a wee bit more professional,' he argued. 'In the past I remember John Emburey saying that cricket was the most amateurish professional game there was, but now nets were a little more structured and we had team meetings. We never went into the depth of analysis they do now, but you got some notes on opposition players and talked about them a little bit the night before a Test – although still not at any great length'.

Stewart's former Surrey team-mate, Pat Pocock, spoke of the amateurish regimes under which he had performed in an England career that had been played over three different decades. 'The whole set-up remained like that until Micky Stewart took over as coach. There had been a time when England wanted to get everyone together in the early winter before a tour. I think Peter Willey was injured, Ian Botham was on one of his walks, Graham Gooch was on holiday – from September until reporting for the tour in December, no one knew what the players were doing. There was no practice, no training, no one said what cricket we should be playing in the meantime. When Stewart arrived, they put the players under twelve-month scrutiny, putting them on programmes and discussing what games they were playing. It was the first step towards a professional organisation'.

According to Gower, 'members of the older guard were a bit suspicious of the new management team of Gatting and Micky Stewart, who had been brought in to instil more discipline into training and preparation'.

Phil DeFreitas, a Dominican-born county colleague of Gower on his first England tour, saw that Stewart was 'about to put a rocket up the backsides of the players – something that didn't go down too well with some of the more senior members of the squad'.

Yet for a twenty-year-old picked after taking ninety-three wickets in his first full county season, the more rigid leadership duo of Stewart and Gatting offered an ideal introduction to international cricket, with rules, roles and responsibilities unambiguously defined. They also cared about the welfare of the squad's baby, who remembered them as 'huge positive influences on my life'. DeFreitas explained in his autobiography, 'They looked after me, treated me with respect and handled me wonderfully well on a tour that could have been overwhelming for me. Micky was a very caring man, as well as being a great coach, and he became like a father figure'.

Gatting's concern for the younger members of the squad stemmed from his own experiences early in his Test career. 'I promised myself that if I ever was put in charge of the team, I would make sure even the youngest member would be made to feel part of the team straight away,' he explained. 'When Gower sort of stuck his neck out for me, a chord was struck and I wanted to repay him one day'.

Gatting also made sure that he was seen to have separated himself from the Botham–Gower–Lamb axis, with whom previously he would have socialised. Not only did he want to spend time with the newer tourists, he decided he was better off not knowing what the 'party animals' were up to.

Although missing out on previous Ashes tours, three years of grade cricket had given Gatting a taste of the fierce Australian competitiveness that could shock the novice's system. So, while leaving the senior players to their own evening devices, he told them that he needed, and expected, their help. 'Everybody did what they said they would do, which was very pleasing,' he said.

_Wisden_ included the tour manager in its keys to a successful England venture, citing 'the efficient, friendly partnership of Peter Lush and Micky Stewart as managers, the confidence their encouragement gave Gatting, and the good team spirit that resulted'. DeFreitas added, 'I was aware of great spirit in the camp right from day one, even when we were struggling in the warm-up games'.

Even Gower would eventually concede that Stewart's appointment was 'a necessary step on the road to the kind of fully professional England set-up we have today'. Notably, Gower also observed that Stewart was less dictatorial on this tour than he would become by the time he and Graham Gooch were in charge of the next Australian venture four years hence.

Even though Stewart attempted to impose a 10.30pm curfew before match days he realised that trying to enforce that upon the party's free spirits was futile. He expressed to the older players the hope they would 'have an early night', although Gower recalled that he, Botham and Lamb had a particularly late one on the eve of the first Test in Brisbane, in which all three scored runs.

'Botham's capacity to consume alcohol was just astonishing but when it came to the business of playing for his country, he was always ready to do his bit,' said DeFreitas, who watched the star all-rounder and Lamb get 'absolutely hammered' on the flight to Australia before recovering with a one-hour nap and bounding off the plane to meet the press as if they had slept soundly the whole way.

DeFreitas, who found himself sharing a room with Botham on the first day of the tour, also recalled his illustrious team-mate refusing Stewart's order to join the team in a round of golf when they arrived at their hotel. The coach and captain offered no hint of surprise and allowed Botham to continue sleeping. 'If you have a genius in your ranks, a man who can win you games almost on his own, then you make some allowances,' he observed.

Emburey explained, 'It was difficult for Micky coming into a job with players who had played more Tests than him and were pretty mature individuals. But although we had some big characters, no one had massive egos. There was discipline in the way we played. Micky and Gatt got all the senior players together and wanted us to get involved. You don't ostracise your senior players because they are the ones who are going to make things work and the players all knew their role and responsibilities within the team and helped each other. We started off the practice of batsmen working with a lower-order batsman'.

Despite playing such an important part in creating the touring environment, Stewart had been allowed minimal input on personnel, although he did allay lingering concerns over the attitude of Richards, whose dissatisfaction as a reserve on the 1981-82 Indian tour had not been forgotten. Stewart assured the selectors that Richards was a sound character and argued for his presence in Australia to compete with Bruce French.

Concerns over player conduct and behaviour had extended to the issue of engaging in media work while on tour. The TCCB had already won a court battle to force _The Sun_ to release Botham from his writing contract for the duration of the tour. Now Phil Edmonds faced exclusion after agreeing contracts with the _Today_ daily newspaper and LBC radio. In the end, he cancelled those deals and announced his availability one day later than the supposed deadline, cheekily adding in a letter to the TCCB that he would happily be considered for the role of vice-captain. Yet before the tour departed he was almost dropped for undertaking an unauthorised interview, alongside wife Frances, with David Frost, who was filling in on the _Wogan_ show. Edmonds was summoned to Lord's and came away with a reprimand.

The call-up of Edmonds had been one of the less noteworthy aspects of the tour party announcement. Chris Broad and Wilf Slack were named as the first-choice openers, with Leicestershire's uncapped James Whitaker as batting cover. The fact that Tim Robinson had been overlooked to partner Broad while Rob Bailey's 1,700 runs for Northamptonshire had been similarly discounted made them, according to Pat Gibson in the _Daily Express_ , the 'latest victims of the mind-bending illogicality and inconsistency that have got Peter May and his colleagues a bad name'.

'We spent more time on the openers than any other part of the team,' May said in defence. 'Robinson has had some problems with his technique'.

The vacancy at opener had arisen after Gooch eventually ruled himself out, citing the twins he and wife Brenda had become parents to during the summer. Early in the tour, Botham – fresh from resigning from Somerset after the release of his friends Viv Richards and Joel Garner – would make a similar announcement, committing himself to spending the next three winters in Australia playing for Queensland, a decision he said was made for the benefit of his family.

Botham's impending absence would make it even more interesting to observe the performance of DeFreitas, the latest in the line of all-rounders expected to fill the great man's boots. County colleague Peter Willey said the youngster was 'dedicated, has great talent and is ready', while DeFreitas himself said he was going on tour to watch and learn from Botham. As always, there would be much to study.

While Australia were showing signs of development, having achieved an impressive drawn series in India, England suffered defeats against South Australia in the first-class tour opener and gave a hopeless performance against Western Australia immediately before the first Test. Throw in their run of three series defeats and it meant that few gave England much of a chance when the Ashes contest began in Brisbane. It wasn't just the professional Pom bashers who made Australia heavy favourites. Famously, Martin Johnson, writing in _The Independent_ , identified the three flaws in England's game: that they could not execute any of the game's basic disciplines. 'During the first few weeks of the tour, we couldn't,' Richards admitted. 'Even playing the up-country teams we struggled and didn't get it right. Johnno was right to put that in, even if we did think it was over the top'.

Edmonds attributed the poor performances early in the tour to the amount of cricket faced by the leading players, describing it as 'more a question of attitude than technique' and insisting that the squad was confident of performing when it mattered. In a column for _The Cricketer_ , he said, 'The fact that so many players have played so much big cricket this year and that in England the seemingly endless programme of matches inevitably takes the edge off the performances of many of the international players has perhaps prevented us from producing our best in matches which have not been life or death affairs'.

When the opening Test arrived, Richards and DeFreitas were awarded first caps and Athey was chosen to open alongside Broad, more through Slack's lack of form than his own performances. 'I went out there as one of the back-up players,' Athey explained. 'But because we had such a bad run in the warm-ups and Wilf had not had a good time, Gatt said, "You are in. Good luck and get on with it."'

Reversing roles from India two years earlier, Gatting asked Gower where he wanted to bat, although his own suggestion was that Gower should go in at five with the skipper at first drop. Gower happily concurred. Meanwhile, Emburey and Edmonds were both selected, partly on the advice of Australian-based former England captain Tony Greig, who warned Gatting not to get carried away with the usual talk of Brisbane's seam-friendly conditions.

At the toss, Border attempted to capitalise on England's perceived batting fragility by putting them in to bat; a move that also indicated his confidence in a three-man seam attack that – without the recuperating Geoff Lawson – shared only nine previous Test appearances. Such trust proved misplaced as Athey (76) and Gatting (61) staged a 101-run partnership for the second wicket and England closed a truncated first day on 198 for 2. 'We knew we were being called the worst England team but we felt if we could play to our full potential we would be all right,' Athey continued. 'That was a very important day for us because we put them on the back foot after they were expecting us to be seven down'.

Two quick wickets on the second day brought in a slimmer-looking Botham, who had told his team-mates on the eve of the Test, 'The party is over. We have had a good time for the last month and now the real cricket starts.' Putting his performance where his mouth was, he dominated another century stand with Gower (51). When Reid over-pitched with the second new ball, he drove him contemptuously down the ground or clipped him to leg. Botham struck with such power that even his mishits were going over the rope on first bounce. He took 22 off Hughes in one over as he sailed past the century mark, fulfilling a promise to DeFreitas to 'take care' of the Aussie pacemen after he'd apparently spat at England's new boy. Botham faced 174 balls and hit four sixes and thirteen fours before Hughes caught him on the run at long leg. 'We could see the re-runs of the 1981 Botham's Ashes series being played and it was just bewildering,' Aussie batsman Dean Jones admitted.

With England all out for 456, Graham Dilley's first five-wicket haul in Tests – achieved with pace and accuracy – saw him delivering on the promise he had shown on his first tour seven years earlier and enabled England to enforce the follow-on. Dilley's wickets appeared to signify his full rehabilitation from the serious spinal injury that sent him home from Pakistan early in 1984 and helped keep him out of the England team for two years. Told initially he could be suffering from multiple sclerosis or cancer, he eventually discovered that a slipped disc was trapping his spinal cord and required complicated surgery, including a bone graft from his hip. 'Dill was one of those guys who was very nervous but when he got going he was really good,' Gatting recalled, 'especially if he got the ball swinging'.

Geoff Marsh followed his first-innings 56 by batting for six and a half hours for 110 in the second, but the loss of three wickets on 92 put England in sight of victory. DeFreitas's breaking of a 113 partnership between Marsh and Greg Ritchie edged them closer still and when he bowled Marsh on the final morning they were as good as across the line. The remaining wickets fell quickly – three to Emburey to take his figures to 5 for 80 – and England made the 75 needed for a seven-wicket win. Emburey duly marked the victory by getting a T-shirt printed with 'Can't Bowl' on the front and 'Up Yours' on the back.

The second Test at the WACA in Perth marked the beginning of Broad's triumphant march across Australia. Tim Robinson, with whom Broad had teamed up after leaving Gloucestershire in 1983, recalled how determined his Nottinghamshire partner had been to succeed after being discarded in the wake of the West Indies series in 1984. 'He was very low when England left him out and his priority ever since has been to get back in the side,' said Robinson during the tour. 'He has a fierce ambition to succeed'.

Broad and Athey opened with a partnership of 223 before Athey, dropped in the slips at the start of his innings, was yorked by Reid four runs short of a deserved century. 'Chris had the tour of a lifetime,' Athey recalled. 'He played brilliantly, I played quite well and we made some good starts. Chris was good to bat with. He was very single-minded about his game and we did well together. The right- and left-hander combination might have made things a little bit more difficult for the bowlers as well'.

Gladstone Small felt that Broad was very different in Australia to the player to whom he had bowled so often in county cricket. 'Broady was a tall elegant fellow and preferred to play off the back foot. So in England when the ball was nibbling about a bit there would be those times when, typical of a left-hander, he would have nicked off. But you didn't have the lateral movement in Australia and he was able to stand tall, smack the bowlers through the off side, and he had a lovely straight bat shot he would play through mid-wicket. He hit a rich vein of form; sensational batting'.

Broad, never less than controlled and commanding on both sides of the wicket, went on to score 162 in 435 minutes, hitting twenty-five fours and blunting Lawson's return to the Australian attack. Gower and Richards took full advantage of such a platform to score their own centuries, the former's sixth against Australia. Richards, in only his second Test, was the dominant half of a sixth-wicket partnership of 207, eventually dismissed for 133. The innings was vindication of the Cornishman's belief he had been unjustly overlooked for the previous five years.

'I thought I was a combination of a Taylor and Knott,' he argued. 'I was a keeper who worked on my batting and I thought I was quite the all-rounder. Perhaps Surrey didn't perform well enough to keep me in people's eyes. Other people came in, like Paul Downton, who was David Gower's best man! I thought I would get to my benefit year and finish with cricket. I was looking at another career but in the end my weight of runs meant they couldn't ignore me. I had given up any chance of playing for England so I was less frustrated in my dream and more relaxed and I got a couple of hundreds when people came to see me'.

Richards played a one-day international in the summer of 1986 but French was the man in possession of the place in the Test team. 'I think Bruce was lucky to get picked in the first place but I knew I could play on the hard, fast wickets we'd get in Australia,' Richards argued.

Having been dismissed without scoring in the first Test, Richards was determined to dig in at Perth, even though England already had 339 on the board when he went in. 'I can remember someone said, "This is Test cricket; at 300 for 5 you're not out of the woods. You could still be bowled for 360.' I thought, "I have got to fight here." Once I got stuck in I was a decent player. I didn't give a damn how I got off the mark; I was determined to get a Test run'.

In reply to England's 592, Border's 125 took Australia beyond the follow-on target and from then on a draw was always the favoured outcome, made even more likely by tentative batting in England's second innings. The last-day wicket held up well enough for the home side to achieve safety with some comfort.

The bat dominated again in a draw at Adelaide. With Botham suffering from a rib injury – replaced by a debutant batsman, Whitaker – England's attack toiled after losing the toss. David Boon made a hundred and Jones 93 on the way to an Australian declaration at 514 for 5. Broad and Athey responded with another century partnership and once again it was the Nottinghamshire man who went on to three figures, albeit less elegantly than in Perth. He added a further 161 for the second wicket with Gatting, whose aggression against the spin bowlers helped him to exactly 100. England's score of 455 left Border with insufficient time to set a target and he provided the game's only remaining point of interest by adding a twenty-first Test century to his first-innings 70.

Against all the early-tour odds, the Ashes were won by Gatting's team in Melbourne. That Gladstone Small should be involved in the decisive wicket was entirely appropriate, given the impact he made on his first match of the series after Dilley was ruled out on the morning of the game with a knee injury, just as the Warwickshire man was preparing for twelfth-man duties.

'Thankfully back in those days in between the Test you had proper matches,' said Small. 'So while Botham went off shooting and fishing the likes of me got a game and a chance to show what you were capable of and to retain some rhythm. I was down in the bowels of the dressing room mixing the guys' drinks and Gatt came down to get his blazer to go and toss. He said, "Stoney, you are playing today." I didn't have time to get nervous or feel any pressure'.

Brushing aside – because of time pressure – Foster's request for an explanation why he had not been selected instead, Gatting won the toss and put Australia in to bat. With his distinctive stooped approach to the wicket, Small swung the ball away with devastating accuracy to take 5 for 48 on a damp, grassy wicket as a 60,000 Boxing Day crowd saw the home team dismissed for 141.

In one spell he had justified the faith of the selectors and reaped the rewards of spending the previous winter playing Sheffield Shield cricket for South Australia. 'It was one of the best learning curves of my career, playing four-day cricket and having to bowl to get guys out rather than contain,' he explained. 'So I was pretty confident. It was a good toss to win. It had been a damp evening and there was moisture in the morning so the wicket had a bit of juice in it. Sometimes when you bowl on a wicket you expect to get wickets on you can get too anxious. But I bowled well. My wickets were caught behind or bowled and I felt I bowled really well. I knew I was having a good tour and I just ran up to do what I had to do'.

Botham, off a short run, weighed in with five wickets as Australia approached their task with ill-advised urgency. Jones (59) was the only batsman to go beyond twenty. 'Beefy's were all caught square leg, mid-on, mid-wicket,' laughed Small. 'But he didn't care. He said, "They're five Australian wickets; I am not going to bloody give them back."'

England, too, were guilty of batting recklessly, although only after they had reached 163 for 1, thanks to another century stand between Broad and Gatting. Watchful and aware of the dangers lurking in the wicket, Broad played late and with discipline on his way to 112 in 328 minutes – becoming the third England player after Jack Hobbs and Wally Hammond to score centuries for England in three consecutive Tests against Australia.

A total of 349 was less than England had hoped for but still enabled them to begin day three with a lead of 208. Small's removal of Border was the decisive moment of the innings and the run-out of Marsh for 60 left Australia staring at an innings defeat. Emburey and Edmonds combined to remove the final six batsmen for forty-one and there was still more than an hour of the day left when the ball landed in Small's hands to leave Australia all out for 194.

'Hughes skied it and I took the catch,' said Small. 'Nowadays the guys keep mementoes but I just threw the ball up and ran off. If I had known it would be twenty-odd years before we won in Australia again I'd have held on to the ball and it could have earned me a lot of money. Some dog has probably been chewing it the last twenty years'.

The early retention of the Ashes was fortuitous for England as it allowed them to take clear heads into the Benson and Hedges Perth Challenge, a four-nation one-day tournament played over the early days of 1987 and squeezed somewhat awkwardly between the fourth and fifth Tests. Staged as part of the city's festivities around sailing's America's Cup, it was a triumph for a buoyant England team, who won a one-sided final against Pakistan with wickets and overs in hand after beating Australia, West Indies and Pakistan in the preliminary games.

Returning to Sydney for the final Test, England suffered from the pattern that would become established during the ensuing years of Australian dominance – that is, a consolation win for the vanquished team. Despite another five wickets for Small, the home side were led to a competitive score of 343 by a magnificent unbeaten 185 by Jones. Then they unleashed off-spinner Peter Taylor, called up for a surprise debut at the age of thirty after only six previous first-class matches. England had watched him bat doggedly with Jones but appeared so unprepared for his bowling that he ended with figures of 6 for 78 in a total of 275 all out.

Emburey, who had supported Gower (72) with 69 runs in defiance of a groin strain, went one better than Taylor when Australia batted again. Naggingly accurate and enjoying a wicket that offered plenty of assistance to the spinners, he picked up a career-best 7 for 87 in Australia's 251 – a score that set England a target of 320 to complete a 3-0 victory.

Gatting and Richards shared a stand of 131 to leave England needing 90 to win off the final twenty overs with five wickets intact, but Gatting was caught and bowled by Steve Waugh for 96 and Peter Sleep, on his way to five wickets, removed Richards and Edmonds with consecutive deliveries with ten overs left. Two wickets were still needed off the final fourteen balls. Reid and Sleep duly obliged by respectively dismissing Small, caught at slip, and Emburey, bowled by one that kept low.

The fact that Australia had actually fared better in the series averages – six batsmen above forty to England's three, and three bowlers below thirty to England's one – demonstrated that England's series victory had been secured by superior performance at the key moments in various games. The tourists did boast the leading batsman in Broad, with an average of sixty-seven, while Gower's mark of fifty-seven signified a return to his best.

Spinners Emburey and Edmonds got through a combined 577 overs and shared thirty-three wickets. Small remembered, 'When those two were bowling in tandem it gave us a lot of control and put a lot of pressure on the opposition batsmen and forced them to crack'.

Emburey explained, 'We didn't get huge amount of wickets, but we squeezed at the right times and the seamers came on and did their jobs. What helped was that we were probably the best fielding side I have ever played in. I can't remember us dropping a catch'.

For Emburey, the tour marked the end of a five-year period in which he believes he played as well as at any time in his career. 'I had two phases where I bowled really well,' he explained, '1982 to the beginning of' 87, and then again in 1990 when I was banned [for going to South Africa] and played some indoor cricket, which made me get higher and taller and benefitted me when I went outdoors'.

The Ashes series marked the only time that Emburey took five wickets in a series more than once and he would end his career with a reputation as being a defensive stock bowler rather than a match-winner – an impression enhanced by his effectiveness in one-day cricket. 'I felt as if I had control over what I wanted to do,' he said. 'I knew where I wanted to bowl the ball, the change of pace and flight. I mastered that. People say I was a negative bowler, but do you know what? I put it down to that fact that I didn't bowl bad balls. Because I had very good control over length and line I didn't get smashed around or bowl a four-ball every over. I went at around two runs an over, so people thought I was negative. I didn't get my wickets caught in the deep; I got them caught round the bat. Is that defensive bowling?

'The biggest regret I had was that I was not a big spinner of the ball. Graeme Swann, because he spins the ball a lot, can bowl a wider line and once you do that you become a more attacking bowler because you are spinning it through the gate. I couldn't bowl that line because I didn't spin it as much. I had to bowl a little bit tighter. And I could naturally keep one end tight and control the games for the captain.' It was that latter ability that made him such an asset in the thirty-one one-day internationals that England played in 1987, a stretch of games that Emburey confessed might have caused him temporary problems at the first-class level for the next couple of years – even if he also argued that 'it's a bit of a myth' that one-day cricket made him a negative bowler.

Modern umpires, encouraged by technology to believe that more balls will hit the stumps than previously thought, would probably have rewarded him with more than the 147 wickets he finished with from sixty-four Tests. 'Some of the umpires we had were not-outers,' he says. 'It would be interesting seeing someone like Dickie Bird umpiring under the current regulations. He would have been exposed. If I had got 200 wickets with the amount of Tests I played I would have been happy, so I have to say I underperformed. I don't know if I could have done any better. In the mid-'80s we didn't have a very good seam attack, so perhaps I was trying to hold things together'.

All that remained now was for Gatting's team to claim an unprecedented third prize of the tour. They came out on top in a World Series tournament in which they won three out of four games against the West Indies – who had been successful in all ten qualifying games on their way to winning the same tournament two years earlier – and then saw off Australia 2-0 in the finals. Added to a further triumph under the temporary leadership of Emburey in the four-team Sharjah Cup in April, England's winter one-day achievements would place them among the favourites for the World Cup later in the year.

One year on from the Caribbean, the Australian adventure could not have gone any better, nor been any happier. Elton John, touring the country at the same time, could barely keep away from the England camp. 'His childlike and unsophisticated pleasure at being with the cricketers is both touching and endearing,' Frances Edmonds noted, 'and he appears to enjoy the camaraderie of this extended family'.

Of course, any family is less riven by in-fighting when fortunes are on the up. 'We won the games we needed to win so everybody enjoyed the tour and life off the field,' said Athey. 'We had some great nights because we won when we needed to. People will always say things like, "I saw you drunk in a bar at midnight," but if you can say "yes, but I got 120" or "we won the game" then what is the big deal? If you get out for nought or the team does badly then people can get stuck into you'.

Nobody was about to anoint Gatting as another master of leadership psychology in the mould of Brearley or attribute with him Illingworth-like strategic thinking. Yet his basic, no-frills approach appeared to work. 'I enjoyed Gatt,' Athey continued. 'We shared characteristics maybe. He was pretty straightforward. There were no histrionics; he knew what we needed to do and kept it simple'.

In the current era of central contracts, with all its talk of 'team ethics' and a perhaps greater unity of purpose and method among its players, few captains are likely ever to have to deal with the diverse range of 'characters' who populated that England tour party. 'How do you captain the likes of Gower, Botham, Lamb, Emburey and Edmonds?' posed DeFreitas. 'The answer is that you don't. You trust them to know what works best for them and you listen to them when they offer you an opinion'.

Richards, despite his success on tour, offered a somewhat different view. 'I can't necessarily say that Gatt was a great communicator,' he argued. 'I can only remember that the one-on-one communication was very vague and didn't really lay out a plan or what the expectation was. You were left on your own. That was how it was – unless you were social. People would go out and have a beer and do their own thing but I was quite content to go back and just relax in my own way and my wife came out early so maybe that took me a little bit more away from the group'.

Gatting at least avoided the kind of controversy that would have sent today's media into frenzy when Lush covered up the fact that the captain's late arrival for the tour game against Victoria in Melbourne had been because he had overslept. The incident left the Cambridge-educated Edmonds offering the team talk, promoting the observation from one corner of the dressing room that Gatting didn't use any three-syllable words. 'Yes, he does,' piped up Richards. 'Hamburger'.

Such moments were all part of what turned out to be a fun-filled adventure, leading Gatting to tell Sky Sports many years later that what he remembered most was 'the way we played and the fun we had. When you are doing something you have got to enjoy it. When Beefy said it was the best tour he went on, then you know it was a good trip'.

## **16
CAUSING A COMMOTION**

'Is it so crucial for creed and country that victory should be obtained and defeat avoided on the cricket field that Pakistan has to inflict on Test cricket an umpire as pathetically incompetent as Shakeel Khan and one so overbearing as Shakoor Rana?' – David Frith in _Wisden Cricket Monthly_

IT was a typical eve-of-series event; a stuffy cocktail party held in the ostentatious surroundings of the home of some local dignitary or other. Even the players, instructed to dress in tour blazers, were barely aware of whose hospitality they were enjoying. They simply made small talk where they had to, huddled together in their own groups where possible, and eyed up the players with whom they would soon be engaged in combat on the field.

Any cricketer who has been on England tours has attended enough of these functions to render them indistinguishable and unmemorable. Yet this one, as England prepared to begin their Test series in Pakistan in the closing weeks of 1987, can be instantly recalled by Tim Robinson. 'Sarfraz Nawaz, the former Northants seamer, was there,' the batsman explained. 'Some of us had played against him for quite a while so we were talking to him. He suddenly warned us there were going to be some incidents in the series, which was why he didn't want to get involved in it and why others weren't keen. When everything blew up, I don't know if that had been the sort of thing he was talking about, but it did seem strange that he knew something was going to happen.'

The explosion to which Robinson refers was one of the most infamous spats in Test cricket; that between England captain Mike Gatting and local umpire Shakoor Rana. It is doubtful that Sarfraz could have foreseen exactly what would occur – no one had witnessed anything quite like it – but he had been the first to so clearly warn the England team to expect the worst. Not that he was alone in seeing some kind of trouble on the horizon.

It is doubtful that any six-month period of rivalry between two nations has produced more acrimony and cast Test cricket in such an unpleasant light as the two series contested by England and Pakistan in 1987. What began with sniping and posturing in England during the summer degenerated into full-blown public confrontation in Pakistan, with Foreign Office diplomats called into action, questions asked in the House of Commons and the England players at one point voting to return home.

The rows that punctuated a wet summer had overshadowed the outstanding accomplishment of Imran Khan's side in winning a series in England for the first time, just months after they achieved a similar landmark in India. Such squabbles also laid the unstable foundation from which England's return visit would crumble into chaos.

'Some games involving Pakistan have an altogether different atmosphere,' was the conclusion offered by Allan Lamb in his autobiography. 'I've never had problems with any Pakistan player as an individual but it is as a team that they become difficult. Imran has made it clear over the years that they believe they see racism and nationalism behind a lot of the incidents in which they have become involved. They seem to think there is an anti-Pakistan bias throughout cricket, but I have to say that they get into more incidents than any other Test side.'

Rain blighted the first of the five Tests at Old Trafford, where Imran was unable to bowl because of a damaged thumb and Robinson scored 166 on his return to an England opening berth in place of the injured Chris Broad. Pakistan's primary defensive weapon appeared to be to lower the over rate to eleven per hour. With Imran having x-rays, it was Javed Miandad who marshalled much of the go-slow, with substitutes coming and going and field settings taking an eternity. Yet, in an age where few steps were taken by the authorities to punish such tactics, many other teams were just as guilty when it suited them – England included.

From his glass house at the press conference at the close of play, England coach Micky Stewart said, 'I feel there has to be a stricter control over what constitutes a genuine injury.' Inevitably, Stewart's comments were widely reported, leading Imran and Pakistan tour manager Haseeb Ahsan to respond angrily the following day.

'We get slagged off and called cheats and I object to that,' commented Imran. Ahsan continued, 'The series has started off on the wrong foot. We've been labelled as cheats. I respect Stewart but he shouldn't have said what he did. The umpires said there was no problem and yet talk of dirty tricks and all that nonsense has appeared in the press.'

Five years after Pakistan's previous visit had been punctuated by animosity, much of it resulting from Imran's anger at the umpiring, here we were again. Weather eventually rendered the delaying tactics unnecessary, with most of the fourth day and all of the fifth washed out and the tourists getting through only half their first innings.

At Lord's, Pakistan didn't get to bat at all, England's 346 being the only action in the seven hours of play possible. Having made five changes for the first Test from the team that finished the Ashes series, England made two more. They included the return of Broad for Lancashire's Neil Fairbrother, a debutant at Old Trafford. Bill Athey moved to number three, from where he made his first Test century, refusing to allow Abdul Qadir to dominate and playing positively throughout.

There was enough happening off the field, though, to keep reporters busy during the long hours of rain. The Pakistan management asked the TCCB to remove Ken Palmer and David Constant, who was standing in this game, from the Test match panel. Constant had been accused by Imran of costing his team a match at Headingley in 1982, having earlier in that summer been stood down from a Test at the request of the Indian tourists. The TCCB were in no mood to comply on this occasion, believing the Pakistanis' demand to be based on pure personal bias. Alan Smith, recently appointed chief executive, delivered a statement on behalf of the first-class umpires that stated their support for Constant and Palmer. Having stood at Lord's, Constant would be on duty again in the fifth Test at The Oval. Haseeb Ahsan was publicly critical of him on both occasions, even describing him as a 'disgraceful person'.

The series was decided at Headingley, where England had lost to India a year earlier and where they were again unable to reach 200, losing by an innings early on the fifth day. Having won the toss and batted, England were 31 for 5 after an hour – not the introduction to Test cricket Northamptonshire all-rounder David Capel had been anticipating. 'I thought I could put my feet up until around tea time,' he recalled. 'But the ball was swinging around. I looked to apply myself and got a lot of help for an hour or so from Ian Botham'.

Capel, whose three hours of solid play saw him top-score with 53 out of a 136 total, was just relieved to be out in the middle in his England gear. 'I had been called up as cover at Old Trafford because we had some injuries,' he explained. 'You see a plastic bag with your name on it and there are sweaters and a shirt in there. But I didn't get picked so they took it away'.

Operating as third seamer because Botham was off the field after injuring his foot while batting, Capel was less impressive with the ball and it was down to Neil Foster to take on the Pakistan batsmen almost on his own. Bowling with accuracy and moving the ball late in the helpful Headingley conditions, he took the first six wickets to fall and ended with figures of 8 for 107 in the tourists' total of 353. Had three catches not gone down off his bowling early on, that return could have been even better. In the end Saleem Malik, caught off a full toss on 99, and Wasim Akram, swinging lustily for 43 late in the innings, took Pakistan to a score that proved more than enough not to have to bat a second time.

Imran quickly dismissed Robinson and Broad, who was given out caught off the glove after the ball looked to have dropped just in front of wicketkeeper Saleem Yousuf. There was further controversy when Botham objected to Yousuf's attempts to claim a catch after clearly dropping it, with Palmer having to intervene to keep the players apart and Imran clearly angry with his own man. Imran needed little additional assistance, passing 300 Test wickets on his way to a seven-wicket haul that secured his team's victory. He had bowled with great hostility throughout the match, dismissing several batsmen as they tried to avoid lifting deliveries and twice inducing Gower to play on.

At Edgbaston, a final-day burst by Foster and Botham brought England surprisingly close to levelling the series on a wicket that did little to assist the likelihood of a result and had done nothing to justify Gatting's decision to field first. Apparently expecting the wet weather to offer assistance it was a surprise that Worcestershire's Neil Radford, the country's leading wicket-taker, was left out of the England eleven in favour of a second spinner. Capel had become the latest England player to be dropped one game after debut.

Mudassar Nazar took advantage with a ninth Test century before becoming a part of Dilley's second five-wicket haul for England. Replying to 493, Broad (54) and Robinson (80) opened with a stand of 119 before Imran began collecting his six wickets. Criticised for his decision at the toss, Gatting's form at the crease was beyond reproach, hitting twenty-six fours in his innings of 124 as England totalled 521.

At lunch on the final day, Pakistan were guiding the game serenely towards a draw at 74 for 1, only for Foster to whip out three men in quick succession. Imran's valuable 37 saw his team extend their innings to 205, setting England a target of 124 from eighteen overs.

With the late-afternoon BBC2 audience growing to 4.6 million, Broad set off in quick pursuit – thirty out of the thirty-seven runs scored in the first five overs – but the expertise in 'death bowling' for which Imran and Wasim were renowned in limited-overs cricket undermined the run chase. A trio of run-outs ensured England fell short at 109 for 7, with both captains stating their belief that the home side should have had the ability to get home.

Athey's 14 runs in seven overs were not considered to have helped the cause and it was he who was sacrificed for another Yorkshireman, Martyn Moxon, for the final Test at The Oval. Pakistan batted themselves into an impregnable position over the first two days, racking up 708 after losing their first two wickets inside an hour. Javed Miandad survived an early difficult chance off Foster and proceeded to compile a superb double-century. Mudassar gave him typically solid support on the first day before Saleem Malik's innovative play took him into three figures on the second and contributed to a partnership of 234. With Dilley and Foster injured, England had no way of stemming the flow of runs from the bat of Imran, who raced from fifty-seven to his first hundred against England without Miandad adding a run of his own. Ijaz and Yousuf continued the pain on the third morning before Dilley came back to mop up the tail and take his tally to six wickets. Pakistan's total was their highest in Test matches, with an England-record 217 coming off Botham's fifty-two overs.

England lost Broad to Imran's fourth ball on their way to 78 for 4. Gatting produced a half-century but Abdul Qadir conjured and cavorted his way to seven wickets. Only Emburey's jaunty 53, including a six and six fours, offered further resistance. Following on 476 behind, three wickets fell quickly before Gatting batted throughout the final day for an unbeaten 150, offering several chances along the way. Botham (51 not out) subjugated his attacking instincts to responsibility and stayed with him from mid-morning until play was brought to a halt.

The first World Cup staged outside England had been awarded to India and Pakistan and scheduled for October and November. The Reliance World Cup, to give it its full name, was played at an unwieldy twenty-one venues and drawn out over six weeks. Despite that, and even with the failure of either host nation to reach the final, the tournament was still rated a success by the time it reached its conclusion in Calcutta.

With Test tours of Pakistan and New Zealand to follow, England's selectors had taken the unusual step of picking three separate squads for the winter engagements, only nine of the twenty-three players having been chosen for all three. Contingencies for the World Cup also included travelling with a tropical disease specialist and a microwave oven. In the end England's progress to the final did indeed owe a lot to good health, even though Graham Dilley had been ruled out by a side injury shortly before the tournament and replaced by Yorkshire's Paul Jarvis.

As usual for the era, though, there was little in the way of on-field planning and strategy. 'There wasn't any out and out preparation,' said Athey. 'It was just a question of switching into one-day mode. You were one of the best players so you played one-day and five-day cricket'.

At least success in Australia during the previous winter had rid them of any inferiority complex when facing the West Indies, and the hitting of Allan Lamb, out of form and dropped from the Test squad, carried them to a morale-lifting win in their opening game. With his team needing ninety-one off the final ten overs, Lamb's unbeaten 67 included a six and five fours and destroyed a young Courtney Walsh, who conceded thirty-one runs in his last two overs. The final over began with thirteen still needed, but Lamb hit a two through mid-wicket and squeezed a four behind backward point before Walsh unravelled completely. He bowled four leg-side wides and a no-ball before delivering a full toss for Neil Foster to slap to the boundary. Walsh departed the field in tears.

Having gone for 83 runs, an unwanted England record at the time, Derek Pringle expressed sympathy for Walsh when recalling the game. 'This place was about forty miles north of Lahore and it was particularly hot and humid when it should have been cooling down. It was a concrete bowl of a stadium and we started at some really early hour. We had to get up at 4am to get on a bus. It was still dark. The West Indies left Courtney seven or eight overs to bowl at the end and his legs went. At the end I said to Gooch that I didn't think I bowled that badly. Next day they showed the game as a replay and Gooch said, "I agree. I don't think you did bowl that badly." There was a bit of swing and they either nicked it or slogged it for four'.

England blew an apparently easier opportunity for victory against Pakistan in Rawalpindi, where they required thirty-four off four overs with six wickets left, only to lose all six for fifteen runs. The match offered a glimpse of what was to come when Javed Miandad reacted angrily to Gatting's somewhat boisterous 'encouragement' to leave the wicket after he had been given out lbw. Miandad, aghast to be ruled against in his own country – albeit by a neutral umpire, Australian Tony Crafter – gestured menacingly with his bat before reluctantly withdrawing from the scene.

Sri Lanka were beaten by solid batting by England's top order and consistent bowling from spinners Emburey and Hemmings, before England fell again to Pakistan, who were in the process of winning their first five matches, despite the contributions of Athey (86) and Gatting (60).

Victory over the West Indies in Jaipur was now vital and Gooch got England away to a decent start, scoring 92 off 137 balls. Yet a total of 269 for 5 still owed much to some boisterous late hitting by Emburey and DeFreitas. Hemmings achieved the vital dismissal of Richards for 51 to derail the West Indies' reply and even Richardson's 93 only got them to within thirty-four runs after the final six wickets fell in quick succession. An eight-wicket win over Sri Lanka in Poona, where Gooch and Robinson chased down a small target, ensured that England travelled to Bombay to face India in the last four.

Kapil Dev, expecting the ball to swing more than it did, allowed England to bat first, only to see Gooch in commanding form against the spinners on a slow turning pitch. His 115 covered 136 balls and included eleven fours, including liberal use of the sweep, and he shared a partnership of 117 with Gatting (56). 'Goochie's hundred was an innings that I don't think anyone else on our side was capable of,' said Athey.

India were left chasing 255 to win, with Vengsarkar absent through illness and Gavaskar removed early by DeFreitas. Hemmings bounced back from an expensive first three overs with a spell of 4 for 21, his victims including Azharuddin (64) and Kapil, caught in the deep for a brisk 30. Without them, a target rate of five an over from the final ten proved beyond the holders and England went through by 35 runs.

If there is one single delivery for which Mike Gatting's England career will be remembered it is, cruelly, the 'Ball of the Century' dismissal at the hands of Shane Warne in 1993. Whenever there is room for a second candidate, it is another dismissal to an Australian spinner – a part-timer rather than the greatest in history – that is brought up.

Chasing 254 to win their first World Cup, England looked well set at 135 for 3 after thirty-one overs with Gatting unbeaten on 41. Australian skipper Allan Border brought himself on to bowl, more through desperation than design, and lobbed a harmless looking first delivery towards his opposite number's leg stump. In an act that would be standard in the modern era but was condemned by _Wisden_ as 'a moment too crass to contemplate', Gatting tried the reverse sweep and looked on horrified as the ball jumped from bat to shoulder and into the gloves of Greg Dyer. 'We have made the breakthrough and the pendulum swings back the other way,' is Border's memory of the incident. 'If Gatt lets it go it's a wide and if he just paddle sweeps he could have got four that way'.

Gatting had been successful with the shot throughout the tournament. The error was in attempting it against a ball pitching in the wrong area. 'Perhaps I should have left it, but I was keeping the momentum going and had the ball not hit my shoulder it would have gone for three or four and we would have won the World Cup,' he argued, although better shot selection would have ensured that his shoulder was taken out of the equation.

After Robinson's early dismissal to McDermott, Athey (58) had shared a valuable partnership with Gooch and now set about rebuilding after Gatting's exit. 'We blew it,' Athey recalled. 'We didn't bowl particularly well and then there was Gatt's dismissal. It certainly wasn't the reason we lost but it turned the game. In one ball the whole psychology of the game had changed. In those days the reverse sweep was considered very risqué'.

Going for a third run, Athey was thrown out by Waugh, who also struck the decisive blow with the removal of Lamb for 42 in the forty-seventh over. Having needed forty-six off the final five overs, England began the last needing seventeen, a task that proved nine beyond Foster and Small.

In the field, England had bowled loosely to allow Australia to score fifty-two off their first ten overs, Boon (75) going on to his fifth half-century of the tournament. Foster hit back with an eight-over stint costing only sixteen runs before Border and Mike Veletta helped their team score sixty-five off the final six overs, a telling contribution in the final reckoning. Pringle, who had remained on the sidelines for most of the tournament, argued, 'Two spinners was the way to go earlier, although maybe not in the final. The ball seamed a little and Simon O'Donnell was the best bowler. I thought if I can't out-bowl him there is something wrong'.

The World Cup over, it did not take long for the scabs of the summer's antipathy to be picked over and bleed anew once England's Test series in Pakistan began. Tour manager Peter Lush had declared his confidence that there would be no lingering bad feeling and had downplayed the threat of any umpiring incidents. If his belief was genuinely held, then it proved to be a naïve one.

In fact, the controversies of the first Test in Lahore made more headlines than the magnificence of leg-spinner Abdul Qadir, who bowled Pakistan to an innings victory with nine wickets in England's first innings and thirteen in the match. 'Seldom has one man settled a Test match so clinically,' wrote Jack Bannister.

On a pitch left under-prepared, Pakistan picked a trio of spinners, to which England responded with Emburey and Nick Cook, even though there was a strong case for the inclusion of Hemmings instead of Capel, who would bowl only three overs in the match. Gatting was relieved to win the toss, but Qadir, with his snake charmer's hypnotism, and the erratic umpiring of Shakeel Khan combined to dismiss England on the first day. Only Broad's 41 in more than three hours and Foster's Test-best 39 got them to 175.

Gatting would state later that the poor decisions had gone against England ten to one, although Qadir – frequently a beneficiary – was the victim of a stinker when adjudged stumped by Bruce French after the keeper had missed with his first attempt to remove the bails. Despite the obvious anger Qadir directed towards Shakeel and Gatting over the course of two minutes, it scarcely mattered to the course of the match. Mudassar had already compiled his tenth Test century as Pakistan marched towards a total of 392.

The umpiring storm really broke on the third afternoon, when left-arm spinner Iqbal Qasim appeared to have beaten Broad's bat by several inches, only to be gifted a wicket after a vociferous appeal for a catch by wicketkeeper Ashraf Ali. Broad, who, ironically, had recently had an article published in _The Cricketer_ calling for television technology to be used to assist umpires, refused to leave the crease. 'It was wrong,' he admitted later, 'but in the heat of the moment my sense of realism had left me.' Only after about a minute did he depart, thanks to the persuasion of Gooch. Combined with Qadir's earlier antics, it prompted David Frith to describe events as 'two of the worst instances of public dissent by dismissed batsmen in living memory'.

After a disciplinary hearing in which Gooch spoke up for his batting partner – an action he later said he regretted – Broad was given what was described as a 'severe reprimand' by Lush, who went against TCCB policy by advocating neutral umpires. 'If the present situation is not arrested, relationships between players [and umpires] will become strained and the game will suffer,' he commented.

Cook recalled, 'We had a problem, not with them beating us because they played better than we did, but because so many of the bloody decisions didn't go our way.' But it had hardly taken him by surprise. 'A lot of what was at the root of our problems, we couldn't do much about. This was the culture of Pakistan cricket. I said to the younger lads, "This is what happens here." I had been there and seen it. I expected it'.

While reporters suggested that England's players had told management that they would not tour Pakistan in future unless a long-term solution was achieved, opinion among columnists and ex-players was that Broad had got off lightly, lucky perhaps not to have been sent home. Instead, coach Stewart and captain Gatting added their criticism of the umpiring. Broad's was the kind of dismissal that led Gatting to observe, 'It seems as though it doesn't matter how good a Pakistan keeper is as long as he has a loud voice and can appeal after every ball.' Conservative MP Terry Dicks even called for the team to come home immediately in protest at the 'sheer downright dishonesty' to which they had been subjected.

Meanwhile, England's innings had continued with Gooch given out caught behind by Shakeel after believing Qadir's delivery had clipped his pad. Then Gatting thought he was outside off stump when adjudged leg before. They were incidents that led Colin Bateman to note in the _Daily Express_ that Pakistan 'made more appeals than Bob Geldof'.

According to Athey, 'We were screwed. We felt that, regardless of how well we played, we weren't going to win.' Yet the controversies could not disguise another poor batting performance, which left England eighty-seven short of avoiding an innings defeat.

And so to the game that would forever place the city of Faisalabad, one of Pakistan's leading industrial centres, in the consciousness of English cricket fans. 'One of the most acrimonious Test matches in history' was the description applied by _Wisden_ after the loss of an entire day's play due to rows and recriminations and the threatened cancellation of the tour. Some of the public floggings previously held in the same stadium had been friendlier affairs.

England had arrived in a disgruntled mood after an unsatisfactory warm-up game in the backwater town of Sahiwal, where the players had been housed in a biscuit factory and, Stewart said, had been grateful for their tinned food and microwave oven. The cricketing details appear irrelevant now; but England fielded three spinners, won the toss and made 292. Broad scored 112 in 421 minutes and shared a century stand with Gatting, whose brisk 79 seemed fired by anger at more unsatisfactory decisions.

When Pakistan batted, there was further English disbelief at Shakoor Rana's rejection of an apparent catch by Athey at short leg. England had made known their unhappiness at Rana's appointment even before the game, asking why umpires with far superior records and reputations were not standing. Yet after the furore over David Constant during the summer they'd never seriously expected their protest to be heeded.

Events erupted three balls from the close of the second day. With Pakistan struggling at 106 for 5, Gatting instructed Capel to come up from deep square leg to save the single, stating later that he had made batsman Saleem Malik aware of his actions. As Hemmings came in to bowl, Gatting signalled to Capel that he had advanced enough. It was then that square leg umpire Rana, a short, stocky figure with slicked-back greying hair and a fulsome moustache, called 'dead ball' and halted play to indicate the fielder's new position to the batsman. Gatting, stalking towards Rana, told the umpire that he had no right to take such action. Rana retaliated by accusing Gatting of moving the fielder without informing the batsman – an allegation of sharp practice that the England captain denied vigorously.

For a moment the pair parted, but as Rana returned to his position the England camp alleged that he growled, 'Fucking cheating bastard,' words heard by Capel and relayed to Gatting. The skipper was immediately back in Rana's face, jabbing a finger towards him. Rana mirrored those actions and, according to Robinson, 'went apeshit'. Emburey suggested, 'If David hadn't said anything nothing more would have happened. He wasn't stirring it. He didn't know how Gatt would react'.

Capel added, 'There had been some frustrations and it had been a long hot day. Perhaps as a team we were feeling a little hard done by after some of the umpiring decisions and to be questioned about your fair play as a captain when it was not warranted I think came across as a bit of an attack'.

For several seconds Gatting and Rana stood toe to toe, exchanging heated words. Twice Athey tried to intervene, first attempting to pull his captain away and then stepping between the protagonists. Emburey, who had left the field early to rest a sore back, argued, 'Had I been on the field, Gatt wouldn't have got anywhere near the umpire. I would have got Gatt away from him. I'd have said, "Let's sort this out later. Let's get another over in."'

Rana later made accusations of abusive language against Gatting, whose counter-claim was that the umpire had been the first to swear and had called him a cheat. 'I did nothing wrong and anyway Javed is changing the field every other ball,' he said at the close of play. 'I wanted to save time and get in another over because they had been doing everything they could to waste time'.

Cook explained, 'I was at mid-wicket and heard it all. Everybody knew what was happening. Malik had no problem with it; it was not an issue. But Shakoor accused Gatt of cheating and swore at him. Gatt maybe should not have reacted but put everything together and I could understand why it happened'.

Athey continued, 'I heard the whole dialogue. For about forty-five seconds, it was absolutely incredible what they came out with to each other. Gatt was very uptight about what happened in the first Test so to be accused of doing anything underhand was like lighting the blue touchpaper. It all came out. There were very serious accusations from one to the other with any expletive you can think of thrown in'.

Gatting admitted recently that the episode 'still rankles'. He explained, 'What really annoyed me most was that the reason given to me was that I was moving fielders without the batsman's knowledge. But the same batsman came in the following morning and said, "Yes, Mike told me that he was moving the fielder." That was disappointing. But in some ways it was good for cricket because neutral umpires came in immediately after.'

At 10am on the scheduled third day Gatting led his team on to the field. Ten minutes later, with no umpires or batsmen having joined them, Peter Lush put in a call to Lord's to inform them of the developing situation, while Stewart conveyed the news to Gatting that Rana was refusing to take the field without a written apology. 'We might have known that the umpires weren't coming out,' said Emburey, 'but we thought, "Let's go out there and show we want to play cricket." We were in a healthy position so we just wanted to get back on the field'.

Athey added, 'We were surprised and disappointed. We just wanted to get on with the cricket so when we couldn't the feeling was, "We may as well go home. We are getting nowhere here."' Similarly, Hemmings recalled that he was 'all for flying home'.

Meanwhile, Rana told a television interviewer, 'I have never known such an incident anywhere, especially by the captain of a team. He just abused me, you see. I can't tell you what he said – words, I mean – but he used filthy language, bad language, abusing me like anything. I have given my demands to the secretary of the cricket board, Mr Ijaz Butt. If he [Gatting] comes in and apologises to me in writing then we can start again. Now the matter is with the secretary of the board and the manager of the England team'.

Rana would later happily brandish telegrams of support he had received, including one from one of his bosses at Lahore Railways that claimed Gatting had 'abused the whole Pakistani nation'. He concluded, 'I think he is not the son of a man. That is why his face is from a white monkey'.

This was far from being Rana's first brush with controversy and headlines. His continual no-balling of Jeff Thomson five years earlier had led the Australian fast bowler to kick down the stumps; Indian batsman Anshuman Gaekwad had engaged in a stand-up row with him after a debatable bat-pad decision; and New Zealand skipper Jeremy Coney had led his team towards the pavilion after Rana turned down an obvious-looking run-out against Javed Miandad. Earlier on this tour, Rana had upset Gatting during a one-day international by arguing that Pakistan were entitled to use a specialist wicketkeeper as a substitute.

The images of the finger-pointing in Faisalabad that filled the back of the newspapers were in sharp contrast to the front-page images of a smiling Margaret Thatcher and Soviet president Mikhail Gorbachev after what the prime minister called 'exceptional and frank' talks. Those adjectives could also have been applied to the Gatting–Rana debate, but it had done considerably less for the global peace process.

Gatting, described by _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ editor David Frith as having 'no frills and few niceties about him; a man of limited powers of tolerance', refused to comply with the request to apologise unless Rana did likewise. Led to believe that his antagonist would agree, Gatting signed the apology that had been prepared for him. Yet by lunchtime it was clear that Rana had changed his mind; partly, some suspected, at the urging of the Pakistan captain, who was happy to lose time with his team ahead in the series and struggling in this game. 'It was pretty obvious that Miandad was running the show,' said Robinson.

An apparent deadlock had been reached. Ijaz Butt left Faisalabad for Lahore that afternoon, with Lush setting off in pursuit with the intention of meeting with him and BCCP president Lt General Safdar Butt. When it emerged that Lush would have to wait because the men had already gone to dinner the situation escalated into a major diplomatic row, with British ambassador Nicholas Barrington asked to intervene and several MPs joining the clamour for the tour to be abandoned. Sports minister Colin Moynihan, however, had a dig at Gatting by pointing out that 'no sportsman is above the law', while Leader of the House John Wakeham was assumed to be speaking on Mrs Thatcher's behalf when he stated, 'Whatever the circumstances there can be no excuse for flouting the authority of judges, referees and umpires. Such respect is fundamental to the playing of any sport'.

Lush eventually got to speak to Messrs Butt and Butt on the morning after his arrival in Lahore – the match's rest day and, coincidentally, the day of the TCCB's winter meeting. Having been in regular contact with Lord's since the affair began, Lush was angered to be instructed that Gatting should apologise if no compromise was reached. Clearly, the future of the match and the tour were considered more important than establishing guilt and blame. 'It was an unfortunate situation,' said Robinson. 'They were a long way away from what was going on and seemed too keen to preserve relationships with Pakistan and Pakistan cricket at the expense of the England team. They were asking Gatt to do things which just seemed over the top'.

No deal was reached and Gatting reluctantly began the fourth day by passing Rana a hand-written note, signed and dated. It read: 'Dear Shakoor Rana, I apologise for the bad language used during the 2nd day of the Test match at Fisalabad _(sic)_.' Meanwhile, the TCCB outlined its position in a statement issued from London:

It was unanimously agreed that the current Test match in Faisalabad should restart today after the rest day. The Board manager in Pakistan, Peter Lush, was advised of this decision immediately and asked to take whatever action was necessary to implement it. In reaching their decision the members of the Board recognised the extremely difficult circumstances of the tour and the inevitable frustration for the players arising from those circumstances, but they believe it to be in the long-term interests of the game as a whole for the match to be completed. The Board will be issuing a statement on the tour when it is finished, but in the meantime the chairman and chief executive will be going to Karachi for the final Test next week.

Lush released his own statement, which, while factually accurate, left little doubt about his and the English camp's feelings:

The Test and County Cricket Board has instructed me as manager of the England team to do everything possible to ensure that this Test match continues today and that we honour our obligations to complete the tour of Pakistan. We have tried to resolve amicably the difference between Mike Gatting and umpire Shakoor Rana following their heated exchange of words which took place on the second day. We all hoped this could have been achieved in private and with a handshake. Umpire Shakoor Rana has stated he would continue to officiate in this match if he received a written apology from Mike Gatting. The umpire has made it clear he will not apologise for the remarks he made to the England captain. In the wider interests of the game Mike Gatting has been instructed by the Board to write an apology to Shakoor Rana, and this he has now done.

Gatting was furious at the position in which he had been placed and admitted he had considered disobeying the orders he had been given. 'I feel my integrity has been sacrificed to protect this umpire,' he said. 'I have had my self-respect taken away by the board.' Aware that his comments were bound to further anger his bosses, he argued, 'We have taken it on the chin again. What I was seeking was the TCCB's backing. I am not concerned about whether I continue as England captain. What I am worried about is the eleven guys on the pitch and me specifically being accused of all sorts of things'.

Meanwhile, the England players had privately agreed that they would not play if Gatting was forced into a unilateral apology. According to Cook, 'We had a team meeting and a lot of the younger more belligerent people said we should just go home. John Emburey spoke a lot of sense and tried to find a bit of middle ground and told us to think of the wider picture. In hindsight, it was a difficult call for Lord's. We could just think about what had happened but they had to look at it on a wider base. We did right to stay, although I was one of those who was vocal about packing our bags'.

Emburey explained, 'The vote was something like eleven to five to go home. I thought it was stupid going home because Gatt has had an argument with an umpire. I felt the younger players got bullied a little bit. People like Neil Fairbrother and Jack Russell on their first trip got bulldozed. Nick Cook and Graham Dilley were quite vociferous in wanting to go home and one or two other players seemed a little bit mutinous. I thought it was wrong and I spoke up in the dressing room the next day. I said, "I feel the voting yesterday was a bit rushed. We have been able to consider it a bit more now and everyone has a clear head." I think the vote was about nine to six the other way, so we stayed. One or two other people had thought that perhaps they did make that decision a bit hastily'.

Persuaded out of any radical course of action, thanks also to Gooch warning of future repercussions, the players made sure their protest was registered by thrusting their own statement into the hands of reporters who were by now becoming weighed down by official communiques:

The England players deplore the fact that it was not possible to affect a compromise solution between Mike Gatting and umpire Shakoor Rana. We would have expected the governing bodies of both countries to use their influence and authority to resolve the problem.

What is beyond dispute is that the umpire was the first to use foul and abusive language to the England captain. This was clearly heard by England players close to the incident. Mike Gatting was ready to apologise two days ago for his response, provided the umpire would do the same.

We also wish to register a unanimous protest that the TCCB should consider it necessary to issue instructions through our manager, Peter Lush, to order the captain to make an unconditional apology to the umpire. By doing so, the captain, in the wider interests of the game, felt he was forced to act against his own free will.

An earlier statement from the TCCB said that the problem had been left in the hands of the England management to resolve as they thought fit. The instructions issued to the manager last night left him virtually no room for manoeuvre.

The TCCB exerted pressure on Mike Gatting and on the rest of us and we are unanimous in the view that the same wider interests of the game referred by our Board had been completely ignored by the BCCP, who did not exert similar pressure on the umpire.

The incident was sad for cricket but the solution forced upon us is even sadder.

It was a remarkable statement; unthinkable in the modern era of central contracts and in clear breach of their tour contracts even back in 1987. Yet it left much of their discontent unaddressed. In the book he co-wrote with Neville Scott about English cricket during this period, Cook suggested that 'far bigger issues lay beneath the surface'. Perhaps reflecting the wider society in the 1980s, ensuring that the correct image was being projected had become more important to the TCCB than examining reasons for poor performance. Claiming that players had lost confidence in their leaders to look after their interests, Cook and Scott argued, 'The intensity of the bitterness which enveloped the England camp owed everything to the grievances which had developed through perhaps the five years in which English cricket had seemed simply to drift.' At the heart of that, Cook now states, was the shoddy way in which players were regarded and rewarded by the TCCB, referring to his own loss of earnings on the tour as evidence.

Athey stated, 'We were very supportive towards Gatt and after all the provocation we'd had from all angles we felt terribly let down when the TCCB made him apologise. If your governing body won't stand up for you in a situation that most people were aware of, what can you do? It was the straw that broke the camel's back'.

Frith, meanwhile, argued that Gatting had cracked 'under the accumulating weight of dispute and injustice; the latest sacrifice to the monstrous political, racially sensitive and money-hungry thing called modern international cricket'.

Interesting to ponder, though, is how other England captains would have reacted in the same circumstances. It is hard to picture Mike Brearley, the professor of human behaviour, or David Gower, the poster boy for serenity, sticking fingers in an umpire's face. Stubborn and dogmatic enough to make big decisions like leaving Allan Lamb out of the touring team, and still maintaining a hint of the chip on the shoulder of an ex-comprehensive schoolboy amid the privileged atmosphere of English cricket's hierarchy, Gatting was caught in the wrong confrontation at the wrong time with the wrong nemesis.

While word went around that he would refuse to play in the third Test unless given public backing by the TCCB, the players suspected that they had been victims of wider financial, as well as political, concerns – particularly with most of the TCCB's tour fees still to be paid by the Pakistan board. The BCCP did nothing to defuse the situation when they announced that Shakeel Khan, villain of the first Test, would umpire in the next game, although they did later agree to the TCCB's demand that he be stood down.

To some observers, the issue of third Test officials remained irrelevant. 'The TCCB should bring England home,' said former captain Tom Graveney, who claimed that Pakistan 'have been cheating us for thirty-seven years'. Ian Botham sent his 'sympathy' to the players, while Denis Compton asked why England had again been asked to 'back down' and Ray Illingworth saw 'a plot to deprive this country of its influence in world cricket'. Meanwhile, the _Pakistan Times_ said, 'Gatting is wholly at fault and should be going home on the next plane'.

Yet views on the events were not split purely along national lines. Pakistani newspaper _The Nation_ , describing the umpiring as 'deplorable', commented, 'We keep our eyes closed and remain mute while the whole nation goes down the corruption drain.' And former Pakistan skipper Imran Khan claimed, 'Mike would have been much better off saying, "We refuse to play. We want to finish the tour now and go home."'

Meanwhile, several other former England skippers claimed there was no excuse for Gatting's behaviour, which one newspaper called 'the worst by an England captain since Test cricket began in 1877'. Ted Dexter said, 'Gatting has made a mess of it and should be disciplined,' while ex-West Indies leader Clive Lloyd commented, 'I didn't think British sport could sink any lower. How I bitterly regret was Mike Gatting has done'.

Having arrived in Pakistan to help resolve maters, TCCB chief executive Alan Smith and chairman Raman Subba Row met the players for ninety minutes. By the end of that meeting they had convinced Gatting to continue as captain and had a greater understanding of the pressures under which the tour party was operating. 'I was surprised at the strength of feeling,' Subba Row commented. 'You could tell what they thought just by looking at them. Mike has not lost his self-respect in our eyes and we have total confidence in him and the management.' Subba Row accepted the players' explanation that Rana had been the first to swear, but said that, even armed with such knowledge, they still would have demanded Gatting's apology.

It emerged after the tour that Gatting eventually received a communication of his own from Rana during the third Test, although he chose not to reveal it because, he would explain later, it had expressed the umpire's regret rather than being a full apology.

Equally strange was the offer by Subba Row to the players of a £1,000 'hardship' bonus, which was kept secret at the time and was unauthorised by the board. Many observers had expected the TCCB to punish its players for their statement in Faisalabad, but here they were being rewarded instead. Gooch was not alone in hearing the sum of money mentioned and believing it referred to a forthcoming fine. When details of the payment emerged it was seen by some as the TCCB's way of saying sorry for their poor handling of the tour or even, it was suggested, the only way of ensuring that the tour had continued at all. 'It's was quite pathetic,' said Athey. 'I am not sure why they did it, but it was a pretty derisory effort – just tokenism'.

Emburey recalled, 'The £1,000 bonus pissed everybody off. If they had given that to us for getting to the World Cup Final that would have been fine. It was just to smooth things over. It was crap'.

Subba Row ended up being reprimanded for acting unilaterally and _Wisden_ noted, 'Whatever England's grievances, they had received extra financial reward for having performed poorly, both as cricketers and as ambassadors for their country'.

It was a bloody shambles all round.

For the record, England – their request for an additional day's play denied – had bowled Pakistan out for 191 when the second Test resumed. But the loss of wickets after a bright start by Gooch (65) and Pakistan's slow over rate meant England eventually had only 100 minutes to attempt to bowl out Pakistan a second time. At the start of the final twenty overs, Miandad appeared to make the unilateral decision that the match was drawn and called in his batsmen. Although operating outside of the laws, no one seemed to mind. The sooner this unhappy contest concluded the better.

Miserable they might have been, but England had little excuse for their poor start in the third Test in Karachi, collapsing to 85 for 6 before Emburey and Capel shared a restorative stand of 114. Emburey was eventually caught at third man for 70 and Capel went on to 98 in 372 minutes before being deceived by Qadir.

'I'd had two disappointing Tests,' said Capel. 'I was given out twice for nought in the first Test and didn't hit the ball in the match and I'd had a string of low scores. It was pleasing to be able to bat for six hours and get my head down because I was more known for playing attacking innings that lasted for three hours. I was on 98 when Graham Dilley came in as last man and said, "Hurry up and get these two runs because I am not going to last very long!" I got a good googly that I didn't read. It dipped on me and I ended up playing a big cover drive to get two runs through extra cover and it bowled me. I was too impatient'.

England's 298 gave their bowlers something to work with and at 146 for 6 they looked destined for a lead. Yet Aamer Malik, unbeaten two short of a century, and Qadir (61) gave them a fifty-five-run advantage. DeFreitas worked through the tail to take five wickets for the first time for England, who then proceeded to lose half their second-innings wickets for 115. Gooch played well for his 93 and Emburey was solid again with 74 not out in more than five hours to ensure England avoided defeat. Miandad approached Emburey as they left the field at tea, by which time Shakoor Rana was being entertained as a guest in the home team dressing room. 'We are not going to get a result,' the Pakistan skipper suggested. 'You are not going to get your hundred because we will give you a single and bowl at the other bloke. Why don't you talk to Mike and see if we can get it called off?'

The series was over, although there was one final piece of controversy when a local newspaper accused Dilley of injuring an autograph-seeking fan's hand when he slammed shut the door of England's team room, causing an injury which needed eight stitches. It turned out the fan had been a friend of Miandad, who absolved Dilley of any blame. It was a rare note of accord on which to end what _Wisden_ called a 'squalid and joyless series'.

### **Hazy Shade of Winter**

After the events in Pakistan, what England needed from their visit to Australia and New Zealand was cricket that created more smiles than snarls and would be memorable for events on the field. They got neither. Any long-term impression left by the England team in the first few months of 1988 was that of sulky, petulant adolescents. Their cricket – as it had been since they left Australia a year earlier and would remain for the rest of the '80s – was dismally forgettable.

For skipper Gatting, the winter had always promised to be difficult in the absence of established forces like Gower and Botham. It had got even tougher because of his strained relationship with the TCCB after events in Pakistan. Now he was to find his team being accused of besmirching what was supposed to be a joyous occasion, the one-off Test in Sydney to celebrate the Australian nation's bi-centenary.

The match attracted a disappointing attendance and gave the home crowds little to get excited about. Broad reprised his form of the previous Ashes tour by determinedly, if not fluently, amassing 139 in England's total of 425. Yet it was his dismissal that made the headlines. Having made a hundred on his fourth different Australian Test ground he was bowled by Steve Waugh after the ball first struck his body.

Furiously, he swung his bat and took out the leg stump. Tour manager Lush, doubtless hoping for a quieter few weeks, was forced to administer a £500 fine, the heaviest available to him. Broad, already fortunate not to be punished in Pakistan, was given a further warning about his future conduct. Yet he would again make clear his displeasure at a dismissal once the England party moved on to a poorly-officiated series in New Zealand.

England dismissed Australia for 214 and Gatting enforced the follow-on, only for David Boon to bat the game into stalemate with an eight-hour unbeaten 182. That England could take only two wickets with the game on the line – albeit on a slow, unresponsive wicket – offered a more accurate assessment of the strength of their attack than their first-innings success. That Foster and Dilley both ended the match injured was further cause for concern.

The feeling existed in many quarters that Gatting was on borrowed time as England skipper. Frith expressed a typical view when he wrote, 'His performance [in Pakistan] may not, in the long run, be overlooked by chairman May. Keith Fletcher was sacked for less six years ago'.

It was not only _Wisden_ that pointed out the anomaly of the TCCB announcing on the day of the England team's departure for the southern hemisphere a new £550,000 investment by the Milk Marketing Board in Kwik Cricket in schools. How could they on one hand make a big play of their responsibility towards the game and allow the national team to be led by someone who had displayed a blatant disregard for the sport's image?

_Wisden_ , which would also ponder how soldiers serving in Northern Ireland must have felt about Gatting's men being awarded their £1,000 hardship bonus, suggested that the England skipper should have been better prepared for what awaited him in Pakistan, having toured there twice before. It also failed to buy into the notion that Gatting's outburst had been indicative of Britain's need to 'stand up to the indignities perpetrated upon it by other countries, especially those of the third world'. Instead, it suggested, 'It is an ability to judge when an issue is so morally wrong that action must be taken which makes a country great. A spat with an umpire in a cricket match is not one of those occasions'.

By the time he arrived in New Zealand, Gatting's own attitude to the job veered between a desire to be rid of all the bullshit and a bloody-minded determination to hold on to a position for which he knew he had considerable support within the dressing room. What he needed was a convincing, controversy-free series in New Zealand.

Yet without Foster's wounded knee, England rarely looked capable of taking the wickets they needed to win any of the three drawn Tests, especially after New Zealand held out on the bowler-friendly Christchurch surface in the first match. Dilley at least rose to the responsibility of having little experienced support among the seam bowlers, taking fifteen wickets in the first two games, including a Test-best 6 for 36 at Christchurch. Frustratingly, he pulled up injured on the first day of the decider.

By that time he had also undermined his good work with an incident on the final day of the first Test, as England toiled in vain to win the match. Frustrated when he thought he'd had Martin Crowe caught via his boot by a diving DeFreitas at cover, he was then convinced that he'd had the same batsman caught by Moxon at short leg. A volley of swear words echoed around the near-empty ground. With the outburst having also been clearly captured by television's pitch microphones, Lush felt he had no choice but to fine Dilley £250.

Some felt it was significant that umpire Brian Aldridge did not complain and argued that Dilley's reaction was hardly unique; rather, that he was unlucky with the presence of the microphones. Others, however, were disturbed that the England camp, despite Dilley's punishment, gave no indication of contrition; no sense of responsibility for setting an example. _Wisden_ called it the 'most alarming aspect' of the episode, arguing that England should hold themselves to higher standards than other national teams guilty of similar indiscretions. One letter to _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ suggested Gatting should lose the captaincy because 'the actions of Broad and Dilley have shown up the official explanation that Gatting and co were provoked beyond endurance by the Pakistan officials'.

Broad was at it again in the second Test, showing obvious unhappiness at being given out caught by Crowe off Bracewell. By now his actions were attracting the same kind of resigned ridicule among the English media that his son, Stuart, would elicit a quarter of a century later. 'Broad often requires the absence of all three stumps to persuade him that he might really be out,' wrote Martin Johnson in _The Independent_ , while _The Times_ 's Alan Lee noted, 'Broad's reaction to dismissal has long since ceased to be any guide to its authenticity'.

When it came to a post-tour review of performance, Paul Jarvis found himself in credit even though he, along with DeFreitas and Neal Radford, had done little to advance their claims as potential match-winners. Meanwhile, the seamers of the hard-working Capel threatened never to reach the standard required to make him a viable long-term all-rounder. Their collective performance raised the question again of whether English seamers, accustomed to bowling to contain in too much of their cricket and truly effective only when conditions worked in their favour, could be penetrative enough on good wickets overseas. Meanwhile, Emburey, with only eleven wickets to show for 326 overs of Test cricket in two countries, ended the tour looking a tired man.

At least Broad, who began the series with another hundred, and Moxon, who missed a maiden Test century by one run at Auckland and was left stranded on 81 by the Wellington rain, ensured that the batting delivered more consistently than the bowling. The most notable exception was Gatting, who failed to get beyond 42 in the series, an unhappy conclusion to his disturbing winter.

## **17
I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT**

'What is beyond discussion is that over the last year or so cricket has been to national morale what book burning is to higher education' – James Lawton in the _Daily Express_

ENGLAND would use one more player – a total of twenty-nine – in the final home season of the decade, but no summer better encapsulated the disorder of the '80s than that of 1988. Four captains came and went, including one following a tabloid scandal, and the chairman of selectors finally threw up his hands in despair and, metaphorically, disappeared into the study with his revolver. The twenty-three players selected in the first five matches of the season, against the West Indies, was actually one less than England had used when beating the same opponents 3-1 in 1966. But in the wake of the latest 4-0 humiliation Peter May resigned his post by lamenting, 'We have more players of a certain standard than any other country. It's often easier to pick a team if you have fewer players to choose from'.

For good measure another five players previously untried that summer were introduced for the season-ending Test against Sri Lanka. In four consecutive matches the selectors had made, respectively, four, seven, five and seven changes. Throw in those captains – the final selection of whom led directly to the cancellation of the winter tour to India – and it was no wonder that chroniclers of the decade, Neville Scott and Nick Cook, called it 'turmoil on a hitherto unknown scale' and spoke of 'selection decisions so devoid of any apparent rationale they defied explanation'.

The West Indies could hardly have been said to be vulnerable on their arrival in England but the retirements of Michael Holding, Joel Garner and Larry Gomes did at least suggest there was some rebuilding to be done. When the home side won all three games in the Texaco Trophy one-day series, English hopes were raised further. Yet, as noted by West Indian journalist Tony Cozier in _Wisden_ , the satisfaction from that success was 'brief and illusory'. He continued, 'The euphoria ended there and the season was quickly transformed into a sequence of traumatic events, on and off the field'.

England gained a draw in the first Test at Trent Bridge, ending a run of ten straight defeats against these opponents, but could hardly be said to have looked the equal of the tourists. Having chosen to bat first against a team who had been woken up by a 1am fire alarm at their hotel before the first day, they ended up more than 200 behind on first innings. They were dismissed for 245, despite Malcolm Marshall (6 for 59) being hampered by a side strain and Graham Gooch and Chris Broad opening with a stand of 125. By the time England batted again, bad weather had left them a little more than a day to survive and Gooch's resolute 146 over seven hours ensured they did so comfortably. Gower, who ended unbeaten on 88 on his return to the team, gave valuable support – as did Mike Gatting for a couple of hours. It turned out to be the latter's final act as England captain.

Gatting had been under a cloud even as the Trent Bridge contest entered its final stages following the publication of his autobiography, _Leading From The Front_. Naturally, the book had addressed the recent events in Pakistan, although that particular chapter had been written in the third person by his ghost-writer, Angela Patmore, in an attempt to avoid censure by the TCCB. It didn't appear to have worked, though, as English cricket's rulers announced that Gatting was in breach of his tour contract, which forbade writing about anything within a two-year period without TCCB sign-off. Patmore argued, 'He's a victim of injustice'.

On the day before he was due at Lord's to explain his literary activities and to help pick the team for the second Test another bombshell exploded on the pages of _The Sun_ and _Today_. Gatting had been one of four players, the tabloids had been informed, involved in 'naked sex frolics' at the Rothley Court Hotel in Leicester during the first Test. Manager Micky Stewart was ordered to investigate the allegations and report back to the TCCB. 'Of course, we take this very seriously and the allegations will be pursued very thoroughly,' promised chief executive Alan Smith, admitting that the enquiries could affect the make-up of the team. Stewart subsequently said he had spoken to hotel management, who were said to be angry at the newspaper reports and described the England team's behaviour as 'exemplary'.

Gatting's England captaincy appeared tenuous at best after criticism of defensive tactics in the first Test and, more significantly, the events of the winter. Depending on one's view, he had either acted inappropriately in Pakistan or been abandoned by the TCCB, neither of which was cause to hope for long-term tenure in his position. A couple of defeats or more controversy always seemed likely to do for him.

While he threatened to sue the newspapers over this latest story, the TCCB interrogated and cross-examined. In the end they believed Gatting's version of events; that he had merely had a late-night drink in his room with twenty-year-old barmaid Louise Shipman. But May announced that Gatting was being sacked anyway. 'The selectors were concerned that Gatting had behaved irresponsibly by inviting female company to his room for a drink in the late evening,' he explained. 'No player must put himself in a position whereby the image of English cricket is damaged in any way.' Warnings about 'the standard of behaviour expected' had been ignored, May's statement continued.

Ironically, around the same time, England football captain Bryan Robson was the subject of allegations of late-night drinking and incidents involving a girl in a Buckinghamshire nightclub days before embarking on a disastrous campaign in the European Championship finals in Germany. Like Gatting, Robson's innocence was accepted by his manager Bobby Robson. Unlike Gatting, he retained his leadership status.

Cozier said of the TCCB, 'Their confusion was evident even in the dismissal of Gatting. While accepting his assertion that nothing improper had taken place with the young woman, they removed him all the same for improper behaviour'.

While Gatting asked not to be considered as a player for the second Test, the others being questioned by Stewart were revealed as Allan Lamb, Phil DeFreitas, Paul Jarvis and Paul Downton, all of whom echoed Gatting's denials of late-night orgies. 'We are convinced their behaviour was above reproach,' Smith would announce a couple of days later. The dropping of DeFreitas for the second Test was entirely unrelated.

Standing outside his North London home after the Lord's announcement, Gatting reiterated, 'I categorically deny the allegations of sexual impropriety which have been made against me by certain newspapers and have instructed my solicitors to commence the necessary action against those newspapers for libel'.

Meanwhile, he explained that he had agreed to have the offending chapter about Pakistan removed from his autobiography. Whether that was a sincere commitment or merely for show, publishers Queen Anne Press pointed out, 'The book has already been printed. There will not be any cuts'.

Gatting chose not to address the loss of what May had called 'the highest honour in the game' – the England captaincy. There were plenty of people, however, quick to point out the further example of confused thinking and hypocrisy that the decision represented so soon after the perceived mismanagement of the recent winter tours.

Matthew Engel in _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ would argue that 'the TCCB's handling of the matter was indefensible and damaging to cricket'. He asked, 'Is there any organisation left in the world, outside the sterner monastic orders and the more old-fashioned public schools, which would seriously punish someone so severely for "a drink with female company in the late evening"? I doubt it.' Having shown no inclination to vigorously regulate players' behaviour on the field, Engel continued, the TCCB was continuing 'to impose an ad hoc set of morals' that it had first introduced with Botham's suspension for admitting to the use of cannabis.

Cricket needed to 'learn to cope with the second half of the 20th century', wrote the _Daily Express_ 's Christopher Hilton, while the same newspaper's James Lawton argued that Stewart and the selectors should also have some accountability for what went on in the same hotel in which they were staying.

_Wisden_ would look for conspiracy in the fact that _The Sun_ and _Today_ were both owned by Australian Rupert Murdoch, who it was suggested might be exacting some revenge on behalf of his country for Gatting's recent Ashes victory. Utter nonsense, of course. Cook and Scott would write that 'the fact that those theoretically in power in the game chose to bow to such journalism offered further evidence that cricket's sense of purpose was alarmingly confused'.

But what ultimately undermined Gatting – more than any hidden media agenda or nervousness on the TCCB's part about image – were events of the previous winter and the fact that his team had now gone fourteen Test matches without winning. 'I was forced out of the captaincy because of the Shakoor Rana incident,' he would maintain decades later. 'I ended up losing three years of my career when I could have been playing for England'.

The new captain was predicted to be Gatting's Middlesex colleague, John Emburey, whose form appeared to make him anything but an automatic choice for the team even though he had been filling the role of vice-captain. Placed in an awkward position, he chose to offer sympathy to his friend rather than back the selectors' decision and campaign for the role. 'It's terribly sad that something like this should ruin a player's career,' he said. 'We have to give Gatt all the help and support he needs.' A day later, Emburey was appointed captain for one game and expressed 'mixed feelings' at being given his chance at Gatting's expense.

By the time the second Test arrived, England's miscreant cricketers had been knocked off the front pages by the always reliable English football fans, who had wreaked havoc upon the German city of Stuttgart after a 1-0 defeat to the Republic of Ireland. An oasis in the increasingly arid summer of England team sport materialised briefly on the first morning at Lord's when the West Indies tottered to 54 for 5. Graham Dilley was superb, raking the ball away from the right-handers to take the wickets of Haynes, Greenidge, Richardson and Richards. That Gus Logie was dropped by Derek Pringle off the edge proved decisive as he and Jeff Dujon added 130 and took their team beyond 200. With his tongue placed somewhere in his cheek, Dilley put his performance down to extra sleep, referring to manager Stewart's pre-match curfew.

Passed fit only shortly before the game, Marshall gave Stewart cause for much sleeplessness by taking six wickets to bowl out England for 165. His first victim, late on the opening evening, was Broad, who muttered, moaned and cursed his way back to the pavilion after being adjudged leg before for nought. England's players had been warned that they would need to behave themselves on the field in order to retain their places. Yet Broad's show of anger – which was juxtaposed in some newspapers with John McEnroe throwing his racket around at Wimbledon – prompted a defence by Stewart rather than disapproval.

Once again, the position of Stewart, who claimed that Broad had merely been showing annoyance with himself, was under scrutiny. Was he part of the management team, responsible for enforcing the disciplinary ideals of the TCCB, or too keen to be one of the lads, locked in the siege mentality of the dressing room?

When he subsequently lost his place for the third Test, Broad responded by declaring, 'I need help.' Referring to his recent tantrums, he reflected, 'I want to keep on enjoying [Test cricket] but something is not going right at the moment'.

Little went the way of England's bowlers in the West Indies' second innings. Even when hobbled by a blow on the knee, Greenidge, typically, responded by thumping his way to a four-hour century, supported by a brisk 72 by Richards. Then Logie, who ended up unbeaten only five short of a deserved hundred, and Dujon reprieved their earlier effort and England were left facing a target of 442.

Ribs tightly strapped, Marshall shot out Gooch and Broad and all that was left for England fans to admire was a brave performance by Lamb. Restored to the Test team after topping the South African season averages during the winter, he was once again at his best against these toughest of opponents, surviving bouncers and shooters and clipping away anything pitched up to reach his first century in forty-three Test innings on the last morning. The West Indies concluded a 134-run win shortly after lunch, Marshall having achieved another ten-wicket haul for the match.

Emburey retained the captaincy at Old Trafford, but four changes included a debut at age thirty-six for slow left-armer John Childs, who had benefitted from the coaching of Fred Titmus at Essex to become England's oldest new boy for more than four decades. There was also a return for Gatting. 'He is one of our best batsmen and it's certainly good to have him back,' said Emburey, insisting that 'the situation won't cause any embarrassment to either of us'.

What was reason for blushes was England's performance, beaten on the fifth day by an innings and 156 runs. Because of weather interruptions only slightly more than half the match's allotted playing time had been used. In among the new faces, the old flaws appeared as England suffered a first-day collapse to 135 all out. Gatting marked his return by padding up to Marshall for a duck and Gower was caught wafting outside off stump, one of Courtney Walsh's four victims. 'It was our worst day of the series,' said Stewart, and there were plenty of candidates for that particular honour.

Childs took a wicket in his third over in Test cricket but his lack of penetration was typical of the England attack as the tourists amassed a lead of 249 before turning Marshall loose. He finished with a career-best 7 for 22, including five wickets as England's last seven batsmen were dismissed in little more than an hour of the final morning. At least that saved some money for those people paying 38 pence per minute to call the updating score services introduced that summer by most daily newspapers.

Stewart's response was to say, 'We have a group of very determined people in the dressing-room. They are going away from here feeling up, not down.' For many observers such comments were a symptom of a lack of accountability, perhaps caused by a management structure whose multiple figureheads created ambiguity of leadership.

With the series now unwinnable – not that many had ever seriously considered it to be anything else – the post mortem began, even though the body was still twitching and two Tests remained. While some urged one of the management team to take responsibility and stand down, others wanted rid of players who had developed an inferiority complex. According to one report, fear of being blamed for defeat and losing their place dominated the team's mental approach. One unnamed player told _Daily Express_ correspondent Colin Bateman, 'We should be thinking more about winning, but no one is sure about the future. I think we could have bowled them out but we don't try things because people are scared that if it goes wrong that will be it'.

The first response from the selectors was to ditch the captain again. 'I got a phone call from Peter May,' Emburey explained. 'He just said, "We are not going to select you for the next Test match because we don't feel you are at the top of your game." He said they wanted me to go back to the county game and work my way back into form. You are left thinking, "Why did you ask me to be captain in the first place?" They had just asked me to do the job and my form was never mentioned. Having four captains in one series was an absolute disgrace. That shows what a mess English cricket was in, purely because of the selectors'.

David Capel, who played in two Tests during the summer, added, 'How can you look to players to take on the best team in the world when there is such instability and turbulence in the position of captain?'

To replace Emburey, the selectors opted for a famous name with limited experience: Chris Cowdrey, whose previous five Tests had come during the victorious tour of India but had produced only ninety-six runs and four wickets. Much was made by the media of his love of Chelsea FC, champagne and crossword puzzles, his Swedish girlfriend Christel and, of course, his family connections. 'I have been through all the father-son stuff before,' he said as he followed dad Colin into English cricket's top job. 'I don't feel I have to live up to things.' To his credit he made no effort to hide from the fact that he also happened to be the godson of Peter May. 'This is quite the best present my godfather has given me,' he joked, while adding, in apparent seriousness, his belief that the series could still be salvaged.

'I think Chris was as surprised as anybody,' suggested Bill Athey, while Worcestershire batsman Tim Curtis, who was about to make his Test debut under the new skipper, admitted, 'There was a sense of them having grabbed at somebody they hoped was going to bring something magical and solve the problems within the team. But they were much more structural and deep-seated – to do with why you selected people in the first place and how you built a team. This was grabbing at whatever short-term solution might come along'.

Even though Cowdrey had Kent top of the County Championship, he was far from being an obvious choice, even among the selectors, who met several times before making their decision. As well as having to prove himself as a player – or display some Brearley-like brilliance to make his own form less relevant – his captaincy had come under scrutiny at Kent, where his appointment to replace Chris Tavaré had apparently caused a split in the dressing room. His lack of national profile was evidenced by the famous incident of the Headingley gateman refusing him entry on the eve of the fourth Test because he didn't recognise him.

There were plenty of introductions necessary in the England dressing room, where only four players remained from the previous Test. Hampshire's Robin Smith joined Curtis as a debutant batsman, while Athey, Jack Richards, Pringle and a fit Neil Foster were brought back. Contrary to speculation, Gower was retained to play his 100th Test while Phil DeFreitas was unexpectedly overlooked. Gatting, who had just appeared before a TCCB disciplinary hearing to discuss his book, announced he was 'not in the right frame of mind' for Test cricket.

Cowdrey stepped out alongside Viv Richards for his first toss as England captain. Curtis recalled, 'He won the toss and told Viv he wanted to bat. Viv evidently looked at him and said, "Are you sure?" which in terms of intimidation was pretty effective'.

After a first day blighted by rain and poor drainage under the bowlers' run-ups, England found themselves at 183 for 4 on the second morning, with Lamb and fellow-South African Smith having taken their partnership into three figures. Yet a torn calf muscle forced Lamb from the field with an unbeaten 64 and in the space of fifty-eight more balls, England were all out for 201. 'I feel I have let the side down,' said a distraught Lamb later.

The West Indies' reply of 275 could have been considerably less had England taken more of their chances, but Foster had made a promising return and Pringle left the field on Monday afternoon with Test-best figures of 5 for 75.

The Headingley crowd, frustrated by more stoppages because of bad weather, had done their reputation no favours by directing racial abuse at several West Indies players, including skipper Richards. At 80 for 1 and with Gooch (50) in full flow, England had visions of a surprise victory. At 85 for 4 and the top order all dismissed, those hopes were all but gone. The lower order did nothing to rekindle them and the West Indies rounded off a ten-wicket win on the final morning.

Cue more discussion of all that was wrong with the England team, with one sarcastic newspaper cartoonist highlighting the supposed positive impact of Cowdrey: 'They are losing with more enthusiasm now'.

Stewart, in what some people saw as an act of getting in his retaliation first, blamed the structure and standard of the County Championship, which he felt should feature four-day games only; the domestic game's poor, results-orientated wickets; and the presence of overseas players, who 'drained resources' and took up valuable places in county teams. Viv Richards, who had done so much to illuminate English county summers, bristled at the last point. 'It's a sad situation when you have to start making feeble excuses,' he said. 'These people should be honest enough – and man enough – to give credit where it's due'.

The counter-argument on the matter of overseas players was that English county cricketers spent their summers facing leading international Test players in almost every game. What better way to prepare for what was to come in the international arena? Rob Bailey, now a first-class umpire, noted, 'Players these days certainly don't go to bed worrying about facing Sylvester Clarke on a bouncy pitch at The Oval the next day'.

Emburey added, 'I thought county cricket in the '80s was the best it had been for a long time. We had all our Test players playing and teams had an overseas fast bowler and it was very competitive. I don't think county cricket was the cause of our problems. It was purely selectorial. The '80s was a great period to play county cricket'.

The theory of poor wickets in county cricket – a problem thought to be exacerbated by the low wages paid to groundsmen – was supported by _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ editor David Frith, who would write after the series, 'Many counties deliberately prepare sub-standard pitches upon which there will be no draws, only results... after their own bowlers, helped by familiarity, have reaped their cheap rewards. But this kind of cricket breeds only bowlers who rely on grass and cracks and uneven bounce, and batsmen who have hesitancy built into their system'.

Observing that Nigel Mansell would not prepare for a Grand Prix race by driving on the M25, Cowdrey commented, 'Generally the pitches in our domestic game are well divorced from those of a Test match. Bowlers rarely have to work hard for their wickets. I cannot think of any other sport where one's training ground is so far removed from the real thing'.

Curtis, who had scored only 12 in each innings of his Test debut, agrees with that assessment. 'If you were going to win a county match in three days you had to have a wicket that was doing plenty for the bowlers,' he said. 'On a Test pitch these days you either have to be tall, quick or spin it significantly if you are going to take wickets and as a batter you need to have a very good technique and you have got to play off the back foot. Those things were not necessarily qualities that county cricket would reward back then. If you played off the back foot in county cricket you were liable to get one that shot along the deck. County cricket was not great preparation for going on to be a really good Test performer'.

In the 1987 county season, almost forty-three per cent of Championship matches had produced a positive result – not far off the forty-seven per cent achieved in the four-day era of 2012. To maintain a ratio that high in the shorter game required a combination of artificial regulations, such as a 100-over limit on the first innings, contrived finishes via declarations and pitches designed to produce forty wickets in three days.

The 1988 season had begun to address such issues by reducing the Championship programme by two games to twenty-two, in order to allow the experiment of playing some matches over four days. And after the season, the TCCB would introduce a points fine for counties who produced surfaces considered unsuitable for first-class cricket. Reporting the move, _Wisden_ acknowledged that weather frequently hampered proper preparation, but added, 'What is different, and consequently more insidious, is the frequency with which the standards are not met deliberately'.

_The Cricketer_ magazine went as far as suggesting that the whole mentality of cricket administration was wrong and called for the kind of 'England first' set up that exists in the 21st century:

The real villains of England's relative decline in international cricket are not the players or the selectors, but the administrators who over several years have allowed the rot to undermine the foundations of the national game. At the heart of the decay is the democratic system of government by the counties for the counties. Instead of running a professional game whose first priority is a strong national side, the counties have looked after their own petty interests, with financial solvency at a local level their guiding philosophy.

Of course, as Emburey and others maintain, inconsistency of selection was not helping England either, but that did not prevent another batch of changes for the fifth Test, exacerbating an unhealthy situation Curtis had witnessed on his arrival in the England dressing-room. 'The thing I noticed and remember – and I was as guilty as anybody – was that a lot of people were interested in what their county was doing,' he suggested. 'That was where people's emotions were. That gave me the sense that there was no real feeling of togetherness as a team. We had not had time to create a sense of playing alongside people you knew and had formed a bond with. You didn't get that. You were there for a Test, you went home and played county cricket and got called up for another Test – or you didn't. There wasn't a sense of continuity'.

Nor was there any great likelihood of the England set-up being given an easy ride by the media. The apparent rapport that had existed on the Australian tour led by Stewart and Gatting had long since disintegrated in the wake of early-season tabloid tales, criticism of selection and the increasing lack of interest and engagement by a team management feeling the pressure of defeat after defeat. 'It is that essential trust between Them and Us that has been missing in this summer of heavy defeat as an appalling lack of understanding of public relations has turned the national game into a national joke,' _Daily Star_ cricket writer Ted Corbett opined in his _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ column. 'It is time someone spelt out just what the press offers cricket free, daily and with no more than a grudging acknowledgement.' Corbett suggested that England needed to follow Australia's example and appoint a press officer to avoid interviews being at the whim of the players and subject to long negotiations with the Cricket Writers' Club.

Meanwhile, the series finale at The Oval saw Derbyshire skipper Kim Barnett chosen for a Test debut, even though he'd assumed 'it would put unbearable pressure on [Cowdrey] to have another county captain in the team looking over his shoulder'. Glamorgan's talented Matthew Maynard was also picked, while Athey and Gower were left out. Capel was recalled, as was DeFreitas after Dilley withdrew with an ankle injury. Only a few days earlier, the Leicestershire man had been dropped by his county for 'lack of effort' and marked his return to their side by hitting the fastest century of the season.

The chaos continued even after the traditional Sunday announcement of the team. Cowdrey's participation was in doubt after being hit on the left foot by a delivery from Somerset's Adrian Jones and, two days before the game, he was ruled out. So was Barnett – who could conceivably have replaced him as captain – with a bruised thumb. When Lamb's calf prevented him playing, Northants colleague Rob Bailey was awarded his first England cap. Are you keeping up?

The net result was an England team that showed five changes from the previous match; included two players not chosen in the original squad; and featured a top five in which four players had only two Test appearances between them. No wonder Gooch would write, 'When Mike Gatting was sacked at Nottingham, I wondered how ridiculous things could get. The answer was a lot more'.

'Tim whatsisname from Worcester was opening,' was Bailey's cloudy recollection decades later, but it is probably the kind of remark that was going around at the time as players eyed up their new team-mates.

And, of course, there was a fourth England captain of the series. On one hand, Gooch had been the obvious choice, his desertion for South Africa six years earlier well and truly behind him and Emburey having already been named captain despite that blemish on his résumé. Respected as a batsman by his team-mates and assured of his place in the team, Gooch – who had relinquished the captaincy at Essex for fear of it affecting his batting – also transmitted the air of someone unafraid to be seen as being apart from the team, even aloof, and able to instil some form of discipline. The problem was that he had already stated that he would not go to India. For now, the selectors put that issue to one side. 'This doesn't change my mind about the winter tour,' he said after being offered the captaincy, assuming it would revert to Cowdrey when fit again, 'but it's a role I'm quite happy to accept'.

Meanwhile, deposed leader Gatting had been to Buckingham Palace to accept his OBE for services to cricket and, one day later, was fined £5,000 by the TCCB for the offending chapter on Pakistan in his book. You couldn't make it up.

Having won the toss, Gooch fell early to Curtly Ambrose, triggering the usual collapse. Curtis and Bailey dug in for a while and Smith made an encouraging 57, but 205 was an underwhelming total. The second day, though, belonged to Foster, who bowled with speed and skill from the Vauxhall End to remove the first five batsmen and give England a first-innings lead for the first time in thirteen matches against the West Indies. It was the kind of performance that Foster, with his classical action and sharp bowling brain, would surely have produced more often had his back – fortified by a metal plate – knees and the selectors been kinder to him. He was already playing in the twenty-fourth of his eventual twenty-nine Tests.

Marshall ended England's opening partnership of 50 by pinning Curtis in front for his thirty-fifth wicket of the series – an England v West Indies record. 'I'd had some success against the fast bowlers at county level; taken on the short ball and played it reasonably well,' Curtis explained. 'But they bowled full at me to get me lbw, which was a vulnerability you have if you tend to take on the short ball. We'd had a few lads from the county as net bowlers the day before the game but it wasn't much like facing the West Indies bowlers. By that stage we were being thoroughly beaten and you just went out and did your best. You always had that sense that when they really wanted it they had the firepower to win the game'.

Winston Benjamin provided more of that by moving the ball both ways at pace and striking twice to reduce the home team to 55 for 3. Foster, as nightwatchman, offered Gooch brave support on the Saturday, while the determined England captain took his own marathon beyond seven hours before being the last man dismissed, for 84. The West Indies made the 225 they needed with the minimum of drama, Greenidge and Haynes sharing a stand of 133. Gooch missed most of the innings after dislocating a finger while fielding at slip and, for a few hours, Pringle became the latest man to lead England.

'I must admit, I thought this summer was going to be a lot harder,' was the damning last word delivered by Viv Richards, who saw his team win the series 4-0 without needing to provide a century of his own.

Also contributing less than they had in previous series were the West Indian fans. This was the first tour in which the increasing cost of watching Test cricket in England appeared to keep the Caribbean communities of Britain at home. No longer did the London grounds resemble a small slice of Barbados or Trinidad. Yet with Lord's achieving the first £1m revenue for a Test in England, it is doubtful that the authorities were too concerned.

### **I Owe You Nothing**

One Test match of the summer remained, a mercifully comfortable-looking task against Sri Lanka at Lord's. But who was captain? Cowdrey, who had lost the job through injury, was fit again, yet it was Gooch who was appointed. Cowdrey was not even given the courtesy of a call from Lord's to tell him. 'I felt sorry for him,' Gooch would admit. 'He was pretty upset and said so. I don't blame him'.

'To argue or criticise was hardly now appropriate,' noted Scott and Cook. 'Only incredulity seemed to belong.' There was anger, too, from Cowdrey. After England duly beat Sri Lanka by seven wickets, he described himself as 'deeply hurt' and spoke of 'shabby treatment' by the selectors. 'No one had the courtesy to tell me where I went wrong,' he said. Referring to players who had been discarded during the course of the summer, he added, 'If that is how we treat players like Phil DeFreitas, David Capel, Chris Broad and the rest no wonder we are doing badly and team spirit is so low'.

He continued, 'Though Stewart promised to keep me in touch when I had to pull out of the fifth Test with a bruised big toe, he never did. I wanted to be involved because I felt it was my team but though I was told I could come along if I wanted to I got the impression that I wasn't really wanted. I was so upset that I went to watch Kent instead'.

Cowdrey, who said he was unavailable to tour India, was never going to get away with such comments. Kent said they were 'in sympathy' but had to caution him and refer the case to the TCCB, who fined him £500.

The selectors rewarded those who had faced up to the fearsome West Indies by making seven changes for the Sri Lanka match, including a return for Tim Robinson and debuts for Barnett, Worcestershire seamer Phil Newport, Gloucestershire wicketkeeper Jack Russell and paceman David Lawrence. Among those discarded was Bailey, who had made an encouraging 43 in his first Test innings. 'I was pretty disappointed after almost top-scoring,' he admitted. 'But there was nothing at all from the selectors as an explanation.' The changes brought the number of players used in Tests during the summer to twenty-eight and meant the selectors had made a staggering nineteen changes in the space of three matches.

Gooch greeted his retention as captain by hinting that he might now pull out of his contract to play for Western Province in South Africa and make himself available for England's tour. The captaincy, some suggested, was the only enticement that could have made him even consider the trip to India.

Sri Lanka were duly beaten by seven wickets – ending England's record run of eighteen Tests with victory – although _Wisden Cricket Monthly_ editor David Frith described it as 'like overpowering under-nourished children'. Among the newcomers to the England team, Russell made 94 to launch a Test career marked by excellence and eccentricity, Barnett scored 66 and Newport, a consistent county swinger, took four wickets in Sri Lanka's second innings.

The subsequent squad announcement for India confirmed Gooch as leader, with Emburey vice-captain, Eddie Hemmings recalled at age forty and Worcestershire wicketkeeper Steven Rhodes the only uncapped player.

'It was the one time I took exception to the selectors,' said Pringle. 'We had taken another beating against the West Indies and I remember not having a great Test against Sri Lanka. People who had not played in the West Indies series got some wickets and got picked for the tour and I didn't. I remember being pretty miffed. That kind of pounding takes its toll and I wasn't at my best'.

As feared, the response from the Indian High Commission was swift and devastating to the hopes of the tour going ahead. Half the squad, Gooch, Emburey, Bailey, Barnett, Dilley, Lamb, Newport and Robinson, would be refused visas because of their links to South Africa. Within forty-eight hours, the tour had been cancelled, amid concern in some quarters that England's relaxed attitude towards its players' involvement with South Africa could end with them becoming 'the lepers of cricket', as one headline put it.

## **18
RIGHT BACK WHERE WE STARTED FROM**

'By this stage England dealt in mutual commiseration alone, sharing not enthusiasm but inertia' – John Stephenson on his selection for the final Test of 1989

TED Dexter had been a cricketer like no other. One of the most dashing batsmen to have worn the England cap, as he did on sixty-two occasions, 'Lord Ted' played and lived in a manner that left one with an image of a cover drive stroked with one hand, a glass of bubbly balanced in the other and the _Sporting Life_ tucked under one arm. A gifted golfer, racehorse owner, author of a cricketing whodunit, television commentator, Parliamentary candidate, inventor of Test player rankings and qualified pilot, Dexter was never likely to view the prosaic figure of Graham Gooch as his type of skipper.

So when he became chairman of selectors he acted quickly to rid himself of the inheritance of Peter May, the man he'd once followed into the England captaincy and whom he now succeeded as English cricket's figurehead. Gooch, May's last appointment as England skipper, was damned by Dexter as 'lacking charisma' and removed from the post he'd held for only two matches at the end of the previous summer. Never even offered an interview for the position, Gooch's first contact with the new chairman was when Dexter informed him that David Gower was to lead the team.

Dexter's appointment as the first paid chairman of selectors had signified something of a revolution in the running of the England team. Yet despite being awarded £60,000 a year to compensate for loss of business opportunities, it emerged that he had not been given a free hand in naming the man to lead his side. Only after Gower, a man apparently created from the clay left over from Dexter's mould, had been confirmed to return as skipper for the forthcoming Ashes series, did it emerge that he had not been first choice. Dexter wanted to bring back Mike Gatting, a gritty leader whom he felt had been hard done by, but his nomination was vetoed by TCCB chairman Ossie Wheatley. Not only did that leave Dexter undermined from the very start of his tenure, but the emergence of the truth later in the summer did nothing to endear his regime to the man who was serving under him. 'I had no qualms about Ted and had a lot of respect for him,' Gower recalled, 'even though I wasn't first choice. Ted loves the game and is a great thinker; a lovely fascinating guy and an extraordinary character. I was happy to do the job so I didn't mind whether I was second or third choice or on a youth training scheme. But I resented they hadn't been man enough to tell me'.

It didn't take Gower long to receive confirmation that the authoritarian streak he'd witnessed in Micky Stewart over the previous couple of years would never gel with his more relaxed style of leadership. Gower could see that many others valued Stewart's input but felt that 'what he did wasn't for me'. He left the assistant manager to organise net sessions while he would take charge of – and responsibility for – all matters relating to the matches. What that meant, it would turn out, was that had Gower had nowhere to pass the buck when things began to go wrong, which they quickly did.

'Micky and I were not soul mates. We're adults so we can work with each other but my biggest mistake in hindsight was telling Micky, "I will run the team. I just want your help." It diminished his role and was not clever politically. I basically said, "You run the nets and, any good ideas, let me know." When things went horribly wrong, it left me more isolated. It was not so much our problem as my problem. Micky got on better with Gooch and Gatting, people like that. I got the emphasis wrong. Misguidedly, I thought from my experience beforehand, good and bad, that I understood the role'.

According to John Emburey, Gower was limited in where he could turn for help. 'Everybody just let David get on with it,' he said. Yet Gower is honest enough to admit that his captaincy could have benefitted had he realised earlier in his career the golden opportunity he had been given by playing under Ray Illingworth at county level and Mike Brearley for England.

'The one thing I would say against myself,' he confessed, 'is that I had two excellent captains to study under and didn't really take advantage. At the age of twenty-one you have absolute faith in your captain; whatever they say is right. Only as you develop your own opinions and understanding do you start to question things. I didn't sit down with either of them, but it would have been quite presumptuous to have said, "Right, tell me about captaincy," although it would have been good to have done it. You pick it up by osmosis, which is probably not enough. You are wasting an opportunity to talk to two of the great captains, to ask about the way they did things and why they did things, to find out how much went on in their minds when they were away from the ground. That is something you are never quite sure about. How much should you be on the job when you have left the ground at eight o'clock in the evening?'

The new regime got off to a dreadful start, Australia winning the first Test by 210 runs. It was an England performance as bad as anything from the recent past – perhaps even worse given that they won the toss and, against the advice of Headingley groundsman Keith Boyce, let an unfancied Australian team bat first. Gower had been minded to have first knock on the green-looking wicket, but allowed Dexter to sway him. Already weakened by injury to Ian Botham and Gatting, England omitted Emburey and saw the tourists rattle up 600 against a one-paced attack that invariably bowled too short and too wide.

'We picked the wrong team,' Gower admitted.

Mark Taylor did the initial Australian groundwork with 136 in six and a half hours, but it was Steve Waugh, a throwback in his baggy green cap instead of a helmet, who revved things up on the second day, reaching an unbeaten 177 before the declaration. In a different context, England's first innings total of 430 would have been decent enough. Having already handed the initiative to Australia, it left them facing a daunting deficit. Kim Barnett's innings blossomed from tentative beginnings into a promising 80, but it was Allan Lamb, as so often, who fought hardest and longest, seizing upon anything short to score 125, including twenty-four fours.

Having lost their final six wickets for 107, England proceeded to bowl poorly again, allowing Australia an untroubled passage to a declaration that left the home side needing 402 to win on the final day. More realistic was the task of batting out eighty-three overs for a draw, but England fell twenty-seven overs short, dismissed for 191. Only Gooch, who'd benefitted from an ad hoc coaching session with Geoff Boycott in the players' bathroom, appeared up for the fight, scoring 68. With Alderman enjoying his return to English conditions with a second five-wicket return of the match, _Wisden_ was able to report contemptuously, 'England for the most part found the straight ball unplayable'.

Hopes of recording a first win against Australia at Lord's for fifty-five years disappeared over three disappointing days, by the end of which skipper Gower had apparently had enough. He'd certainly grown sick of trying to make sense of things for the press. Looking unusually uptight, he gave terse answers at the customary Saturday evening press conference before cutting short proceedings and exiting the press tent with the explanation that he had to get to the Prince Edward Theatre for Cole Porter's _Anything Goes_. It was typical of a decade that kept offering compelling storylines that Gower should return to the ground on Monday to play a heroic backs-to-the-wall innings.

A fit-again Dilley and in-favour Emburey had returned to the England team, with Phil DeFreitas, Derek Pringle and the injured Phil Newport left out and seven batsmen selected, including Gatting for the injured Lamb. A first innings total of 286 looked inadequate at the time and even more so when Australia countered with 528. Waugh passed 150 again without being dismissed, Boon scored a hard-working 94 and it took England 263 runs to take the final four wickets. By the time Saturday's play closed, England had lost their top three batsmen and still needed 184 to make Australia bat again. Gower was off for a night out.

'I thought I could deal with everything and that I knew what to expect,' he explained. 'Actually you are never quite ready for defeat and the reaction to defeat, which is so strong during the Ashes. OK, maybe I was a bit glib but this is the conundrum. Press conferences nowadays are so fucking anodyne because everyone has been coached to eternity about what to say, the party line is produced and no one listens to a word because it is useless. At least I thought I gave interesting press conferences. I had a sparky relationship with the press and the guys I knew well over the years kind of understood, but some of the new faces bridled because they thought they were being talked down to. They thought they weren't being given the respect they deserved, but as far as I was concerned they were getting far more respect than they deserved. Later on I grew to understand a lot more about the whole business and from the other side of the fence now I understand a whole lot better. Before I finished playing I was much more accommodating but at that stage it definitely felt like the captain versus the press. In a sense it was quite good fun.

'With the theatre thing, we'd had a bad three days and I tried to joke my way through and ease the pressure a bit, asking them to refer to my answers in previous Test match and this and that. Then it got petty and as an instinctive reaction I thought, "Fuck it, I have had enough of this," and said, "Micky, it's all yours." I left an open-mouthed Micky Stewart gaping at the press corps, strode out the door and went to the theatre. Actually, if I didn't move then I was probably going to miss the start of the show and I didn't want to be rude to my host. The down side was, having enjoyed the show and relaxed and feeling better, the following day I get the call from Ted saying, "Right, you need to mend some bridges. Can you go and speak to the media?" The rest day wasn't as restful as it might have been'.

Gower's outburst at least appeared to have boosted ticket sales for Monday's play. His batting certainly helped the crowd get their money's worth. Having scored a flighty fifty in the first innings, he played with purpose and determination in scoring his fifteenth Test century. He had not exhibited such fortitude at the crease since Jamaica eight years previously and it needed a brutish ball from pantomime villain Merv Hughes to remove him. Robin Smith appeared set for a maiden century until Alderman got him with a beauty, one of three wickets in sixteen balls that ended England's resistance.

Australia, whose chase of 118 to win was delayed on the final day by rain, fell to 67 for 4 as Neil Foster broke through with three wickets, but Boon and the immovable Waugh – who passed 350 runs for the series without being dismissed – eased their team home.

Dexter, however, felt he had the answer. Prior to the third Test he distributed song sheets featuring his own new words to the hymn 'Onward Christian Soldiers'. The players, rather than belting out the words to 'Onward Gower's Cricketers' in the manner of troops about to go into battle, merely felt embarrassment.

Team selection for the match summed up the comparative state of the teams. Australia serenely named an unchanged unit. England left out Chris Broad and Paul Jarvis, brought back Lamb and Ian Botham, and then lost Lamb, Smith and Foster (injured) and Gatting (bereavement) in the days leading up to the game. Jarvis was back, as was Tim Curtis and, after a five-year absence, Chris Tavaré. Middlesex's tall, well-built seamer, Angus Fraser, was awarded a Test debut.

Botham was back in Test cricket for the first time for almost two years, but this time it took him thirteen overs to grab a wicket, rather than one ball. Dean Jones proved England's biggest problem, eventually being dismissed for 157 on the Monday morning after rain had wrecked the second and third days. Fraser, showing the control and intelligence that would characterise his Test career, took four wickets in Australia's 424 and the draw appeared the only likely result until England slumped to 75 for 5. Botham responded with a doughty 46, but the home side still needed Dilley, Emburey and Jarvis to score important runs on the final morning to eliminate the follow-on and make the game safe.

The fourth Test at Old Trafford was historic for the Australians, who won back the Ashes away from home for the first time since 1934, and humbling for England, who batted modestly twice and lacked devilment in their bowling. Only Smith, with his first Test hundred, and Russell, who became the fourth Englishman to record a maiden first-class century in a Test match, were likely to take away fond memories of the game.

Gower certainly didn't, finding himself in the middle of another PR disaster after being picked up by the ITN cameras making a double V-sign towards jeering fans while in the field on the Saturday. Dexter was forced to admit, 'I have reminded David of his responsibilities and have had his assurance there will be no repetition'.

The skipper recalled, 'They had a camera behind me at point and there was a ball that popped up two yards short of me and I couldn't get to it. There was a comment from behind me in the crowd and I flicked a V-sign behind my back. The camera picked it up and there was a piece on _News at Ten_ talking about the stress of the England captain about to lose the Ashes. Mark Austin, the ITN correspondent at the time, thought it was amusing but it caused a ruckus. Again Ted called me in the morning, and I said, "Ted, I did nothing wrong, I am not ruining my day to apologise for something I don't want to apologise for." I disappeared into Cheshire with friends and made myself completely unavailable for the day'.

After offering one early chance, Smith was never troubled again during his first-innings effort of 143 off 285 balls, a remarkable contribution to a team total of only 260. 'It was a fine innings by any standards,' said _Wisden_. 'Amidst the fragility of so many more experienced players it was outstanding.' In their second innings, which began on the fourth morning with a deficit of 187 runs, England collapsed to 59 for 6 either side of lunch before rain brought some respite. Russell and Emburey, each in his own eccentric style, stayed together until the final afternoon, before Emburey was out for 64. Russell went on to score an unbeaten 128 in nine minutes short of six hours and caused Australia to bat again to make 78 to win.

This, of course, they did, meaning that a touring side given little chance before the series left Manchester 3-0 up with two to play. Yet the result, the destination of the Ashes and Russell's resistance all appeared insignificant after the story that had broken on the fourth morning. While Gower had been avoiding the media on the rest day things had, as he put it, 'been kicking off.' The rebels were back in business.

Since Gooch's England team visited in 1982, South Africa had hosted tours by unofficial Australia, West Indies and Sri Lanka teams. Ali Bacher, head of the South African Cricket Union, had been cooking up an England return over the previous six months. Rumours had been growing throughout the summer and reached a crescendo during the Old Trafford defeat. Fans had even taunted Gower with taunts of 'go to South Africa' when he kept fan-favourite Botham waiting for a bowl on the second day of the game. The fact that word was getting out was little surprise, given that recruitment was, according to Nick Cook, an 'open secret'. Not for all, apparently. Gower insisted, 'I was never aware, as England captain, of all the stuff about rebel tours. Stewart knew about it, the players who were going knew about it. The only person in the entire western world who didn't know there was a rebel tour being planned was me'.

It was confirmed on the final morning that fifteen Test players – plus uncapped David Graveney as player-manager – were to form an unofficial England team to tour South Africa over the following two winters, with contracts reportedly ranging from £100,000 to £140,000. Add a five-year ban to the end date of the engagement and those players were effectively ruling themselves out of Test cricket for seven years. As an additional act of defiance, or perhaps embarrassment, the rebel players involved in the ongoing Test refused to sign the autograph bats being passed around the dressing room on the day the news broke.

Tim Robinson, Emburey and Foster from the current Test side were included in the squad, along with Gatting, Broad, DeFreitas and Barnett, who had played earlier in the Ashes series. The others were named as Bill Athey, Roland Butcher, Chris Cowdrey, Graham Dilley, Richard Ellison, Bruce French, Paul Jarvis and Matthew Maynard.

The inclusion of Caribbean-born players DeFreitas and Butcher was inevitably seized upon in the media, with leading British sprinter John Regis asking, 'How can they live with themselves? They are betraying black people.' Two days later, both players withdrew. DeFreitas admitted he 'had not thought deeply enough about it' while Butcher realised he had 'made a mistake' after a long discussion with Middlesex team-mate Norman Cowans.

Gatting, the tour captain, had apparently made up his mind to go after being persuaded in three last-minute calls from the organisers. The manner of his removal from the England captaincy and his continued difficult relationship with the TCCB – evidenced by the veto of Dexter's plan to reinstate him as skipper – made it an easier decision. 'I went to South Africa for the rebel tour because we had people running the game who were dishonest,' he claimed. 'They promised to do things but didn't and I couldn't cope with that. I had a family to look after'.

Reflecting further following his installation as MCC president in 2013 – an unthinkable turn of events a quarter of a century earlier – he added, 'Sadly there were some people involved with English cricket who made it perfectly clear they didn't want me involved and went out of their way to do so. I suppose you might say I cut off my nose to spite my face'.

The day after the announcement, the former skipper had to force his way past anti-apartheid protestors holding 'Blood Money' placards before scoring a Lord's century for Middlesex. Admitting that the players 'know what we have got into', he denied that he was a 'traitor' – as stated in a _Daily Mirror_ headline – and said, 'I know very little about apartheid. I don't believe there should be politics in sport but I understand a little about what the SACU is trying to do – which is to distance itself from the policies of the government there'.

Cowdrey, mentioned as a possible tour captain, had already spoken about the possibility of joining a rebel side, saying he would consider it if he felt there was no way back into the England team. 'The way things have gone in the past twelve months I wouldn't have thought my chances were that good,' he admitted.

As they had in 1982, the South African recruiters found John Emburey ready to commit to their cause. 'One of the reasons I signed was that India had cancelled the tour because of connections to South Africa and I think that got my goat,' he explained. 'I thought, "Sod it – they cancelled the tour and cost me money," so I went on the tour because of that. Plus, I'd had my benefit money in Australia and lost it because the building society went bust. And I wasn't bowling particularly well, which made it an easier decision to go. You knew you were going to get banned, but I accepted that because I didn't know if I was going to get picked again for England'.

The plotting that had been taking place to get the tour organised was cited by many observers as an obvious cause of the England team's problems during the summer. Questioning the rebels' commitment to the England cause and doubting their pride in playing for their country, _Wisden_ editor Graeme Wright commented, 'Watching some of the professional cricketers who have represented England in recent years, I can't help thinking that they regard a Test match as just another working day'.

Curtis, pitched into the middle of a calamitous series for the second year running, recalled, 'It didn't feel like this was a side that was settled and moving in the right direction. After the rebel tour announcement you became aware that you were in a dressing room where some people knew they weren't going to be there for much longer, so retrospectively that made you question how committed people were. It was another factor in there being no sense of cohesion and togetherness'.

Of course, commitment cut both ways. Robinson makes no bones that the money was attractive but he had begun to despair of the uncaring approach of the England team hierarchy. He had recently been the victim of either an unforgivable snub or oversight when, around the time of the fourth Test, Dexter had sent letters to the top thirty English players asking them about availability for the winter tour of the West Indies. Robinson never received a letter, even though he'd been picked for the current team.

The authorities' apparent knowledge of an impending rebel tour makes their lack of concern or foresight even more unfathomable. Cook and fellow author Neville Scott noted, 'That no attempt was made to pre-empt developments, most obviously, perhaps, by announcing future plans and new financial incentives for contracted players, says much about the merely day-to-day mentality of those in charge of English cricket'.

Those who had condemned the 1982 tourists on political grounds found it even harder to offer any sympathy to the new rebels. By 1989 it was becoming more obvious what an important role sporting isolation was playing in potential political reform in South Africa. Already condemned as an ill-advised venture by many, the tour received even greater opprobrium when it emerged that the South African government, rather than private sponsors, were bankrolling the tour. Renowned anti-apartheid campaigner Peter Hain recalled, 'This was on the cusp of a historic change in South Africa. So for Gatting and his tourists to go, clodhoppers and all, into this transformative moment was grotesque beyond belief.' Subsequent events in South Africa would, indeed, render the trip the most notorious of the seven rebel tours.

While the implications of the South African announcement were being digested, England had the remainder of an increasingly miserable series to get on with. Stewart had said before the fourth Test that any players unavailable for the winter tour to the West Indies – for whatever reason – would still be considered for Ashes matches. Yet that was no longer the case. Gower, meanwhile, might well have been expected to lose the captaincy given the events of the series so far, but with so many players now beyond selection, his retention at Trent Bridge was considered the pragmatic option.

'By then it was all getting too much; a perfect storm brewing up very quickly,' said Gower. 'The Ashes were gone, there was a rebel tour and I was being asked if I was going to remain as captain. I felt pretty low but they said they'd like me to carry on'.

Gooch would write, 'As the series proceeded, David became more and more detached. I felt sorry for him.' Happy to escape the depression and disillusionment around the team, Gooch was allowed to miss the fifth Test in order to recover his form with Essex, although Botham was retained, despite concern over his form in the two games in which he had played.

Lancashire batsman Mike Atherton was given a Test debut in the number three slot; while another new cap was awarded to Derbyshire fast bowler Devon Malcolm, who shared the new ball with Fraser and took his first steps towards the cult status he would achieve among England fans in later years. Malcolm's first impression of Test cricket was hardly a flattering one. 'I was shocked at the amateurish way we prepared for my first Test,' he said 'I honestly felt afterwards that Derbyshire prepared better for games than we did under David Gower.' He described the light Wednesday afternoon net and gentle jogging followed by a team dinner that included very little strategic discussion and where he spent a nervous evening sitting next to Dexter. Clearly he didn't make much of a mark on the figurehead of English cricket, who would proclaim after the series that one of the positive aspects of the summer had been the performance of 'Malcolm Devon'.

The newcomers' first day in Test cricket was historic, for all the wrong reasons. For the first time ever, England toiled through a complete day in the field without taking a single wicket as Australia closed on 301 for 0. The performance of Mark Taylor, on his way to a double-hundred, and Geoff Marsh, who was eventually out on the second morning for 138, was all the more commendable given that England's bowling was not always that bad. Malcolm was impressively hostile – if frighteningly erratic at times – while Fraser was accurate and Nick Cook bowled nicely and eventually picked up three wickets after he and fellow spinner Eddie Hemmings had returned to the team following long absences.

Cook described the England set-up into which he had been re-introduced as 'disarray' and said it was 'like walking into a morgue'. He explained, 'There was no feeling of permanence in the side. I noticed a feeling that if you did half-decent you could be in for the next Test. That was how people were thinking, with a bit of selfishness and no team plan'.

Australia declared beyond 600 and, having made England wait more than a day to take a wicket, picked up two in the first over, Alderman removing Curtis and Atherton. Smith, therefore, made an early start to the most brilliant England innings of the summer. By the time he departed, his punishing off-side stroke play and fierce pulls had brought him 101 from 150 balls, his second century in consecutive games. The man known as 'Judge' because of his curly hair was well on the way to becoming a linchpin of England's batting in the first half of the next decade and enabling brother Chris to collect on a bet that his junior sibling would play fifty Tests.

England followed on, trailing by 347, on the fourth morning and were all out for 167 shortly after tea. Atherton gave early evidence of the qualities that would define his Test career by sticking around for three hours for 47, but England finished with the ignominy of their heaviest home defeat against Australia. They had even tried to change their fortunes by sending in Gower as an opener in the hope that a left-hander at the top of the order would disrupt the tourists' bowlers. Debutant Malcolm couldn't believe what he was seeing. 'It appeared that we were lurching form crisis to crisis with no real strategy, no real plan of coping,' he observed. 'Even I, a virtual novice, could see that, so why couldn't the England think-tank?'

'I am not aware of any mistakes I have made,' Dexter announced before the final Test, for which Gower was again retained as captain despite mounting rumours that he would resign before being ditched for the winter tour. Six changes were made, bringing the total of players used by England in the series to a mind-boggling twenty-nine. The brains trust of Dexter, Stewart and Gower could achieve no consensus on who to pick. 'We were no longer on the same side,' said Gower. 'We were just three people in jobs that required them to speak to each other'.

Ironically Dexter, who said that only five of his first 300 hours in his new role had been focused on picking the England team, had just voiced his awareness of the problems of insecurity that inconsistent selection could breed. 'We don't want young players to think they are playing from match to match and therefore playing accordingly rather than playing for the team and trying to win the match for England,' he'd told Christopher Martin-Jenkins.

An injured Botham was missing at The Oval, which meant recalls for two of the men who had spent years in his shadow, Pringle and David Capel. For the latter, an emergency call during a losing series was nothing new. 'I don't know how many times I was in and out of the team but I think I played under five captains,' he said. 'I barely ever played more than two or three in a row and I never started a Test series. I was always brought in. I never had that opportunity to play a whole series at home'.

Malcolm (back), DeFreitas (hamstring) and Fraser (knee) ensured that England's Test decade ended with another catalogue of absentee seam bowlers. Gladstone Small was back in and when Micky Stewart described Kent's Allan Igglesden – called up for his debut – as the 'seventeenth choice' he was barely exaggerating. Essex batsman John Stephenson was also given a first (and only) Test cap, chosen to partner returning county team-mate Gooch, although he said that no one else spoke to him for five days.

Australia, having picked the same team for the fifth consecutive game, were led to 468 by another Jones hundred, before their push for another victory was hampered by poor weather, a flashy 79 by Gower and a popular and unlikely half-century by Small. Alderman, on his way to a final tally of forty-one victims, picked up his sixth five-wicket haul of the series. Denied the chance to make England follow on, Border was guilty of batting for too long before declaring, his lead of 401 more than enough and the four hours remaining unlikely to be sufficient to force a fifth victory of the series. So it proved, with Smith's unbeaten 77 from 66 balls a fitting way for England's biggest success story of the final summer of the 1980s to finish the series.

### **Fool's Gold**

Robin Smith would be one of the heroes when England began the 1990s with an unlikely nine-wicket win against the West Indies in Jamaica and were unlucky to lose the series 2-1 after weather cost them another winning position. Lamb, as usual, bravely made light of the pace attack before him to score the two England Test centuries of the tour, while the leadership combination of new skipper Gooch and coach Stewart returned with reputations enhanced and methods established.

Gooch's standing as one of the world's most accomplished batsmen would be further elevated by the triple-century and century he scored at Lord's the following summer against India, but his leadership style would not be one that suited everyone. 'When Gooch took over as captain the whole professional regime of training came in,' observed Bob Willis. 'It alienated Gower in particular and Beefy to a lesser extent. Beefy always said they would have won the World Cup in 1992 if they hadn't had to get to the ground three hours before the final against Pakistan and do training and practice, which tired everyone out'.

That World Cup campaign in New Zealand and Australia, where England had lost another Ashes series 3-0 the winter before and would be beaten twice more in the '90s, would remain alongside Jamaica as the high points of the decade; glimpses of Eldorado on a journey that would end instead in the wilderness of last place in the newly-introduced official Test rankings. There's another book in there somewhere, but it would take a strong constitution to face the gloomy monotony of poring over hours of England defeats and listening to accounts of depressing episodes such as the 46 all out in Trinidad.

The 1990s concluded pretty much as had the 1980s, in debacle: knocked out of a home World Cup in the first group stages – before promotional elements such as the official song and computer game of the tournament had even been launched – and beaten by New Zealand in a series that finished with skipper Nasser Hussain and his team on The Oval balcony listening to the boos of the crowd.

In 1989, once that same Oval crowd had dispersed and the final obituaries for Gower's team had been published, all that had remained in the most unpredictable of decades for English cricket was for the process of deciding on a captain for the West Indies tour to result in a predictable mess.

Gower stops short of regretting the day he accepted the position for a second time. 'Looking back I wouldn't say, "No I would rather you hadn't given me the job,"' he said. 'I would just rather it had gone better. You end up wishing and looking at the mistakes you made. Although we used an inordinate number of players, partly it was panicky selection and partly it was bad luck through injury. I was ambitious to do the job and my thoughts were positive. The fact it didn't go well was quite debilitating'.

Summoned to Dexter's house in Ealing, Gower was unsurprised to be told that a change would be made in captaincy, nor would he be selected as a batsman for the West Indies. He insisted that it be made known he had been fired rather than concocting the tale that he had resigned and that a shoulder injury would keep him out of the winter series. Gower suggested that Dexter could make the announcement while he was beyond the reach of the press in Portugal. He was angry, then, to receive a call during his holiday from _The Sun_ 's John Etheridge, who knew everything that was about to transpire and was asking for a pre-emptive interview.

It was typical of England's cricket team in the 1980s. Rarely had things gone to plan, but never had they failed to deliver a headline.

## APPENDIX 1
 **ENGLAND TEST RESULTS IN THE 1980s**

### **1979-80**

**First Test, Perth:** Australia 244 (K.J. Hughes 99; I.T. Botham 6-78) and 337 (A.R. Border 115, J.M. Wiener 58; I. T. Botham 5-98); England 228 (J. M. Brearley 64; D.K. Lillee 4-73) and 215 (G. Boycott 99no; G. Dymock 6-34). _Australia won by 138 runs._

**Second Test, Sydney:** England 123 (D.K. Lillee 4-43; G. Dymock 4-62) and 237 (D.I. Gower 98no); Australia 145 (I.T. Botham 4-29) and 219-4 (G.S. Chappell 98no). _Australia won by 6 wickets._

**Third Test, Melbourne:** England 306 (G.A. Gooch 99, J.M. Brearley 60no; D.K. Lillee 6-60) and 273 (I.T. Botham 119no, G.A. Gooch 51; D.K. Lillee 5-78); Australia 477 (G.S. Chappell 114, I.M. Chappell 75, B.M. Laird 74, A.R. Border 63; J.K. Lever 4-111) and 103 for 2. _Australia won by 8 wickets and won series 3-0._

**Jubilee Test, Bombay:** India 242 (I.T. Botham 6-58) and 149 (I.T. Botham 7-48); England 296 (I.T. Botham 114; K.D. Ghavri 5-52) and 98 for 0. _England won by 10 wickets._

### **1980**

**First Test, Trent Bridge:** England 263 (I.T. Botham 57; A.E. Roberts 5-72) and 252 (G. Boycott 75; J. Garner 4-30); West Indies 308 (I.V.A. Richards 64, D.L. Murray 64, C.G. Greenidge 53; R.G.D. Willis 4-82) and 209 for 8 (D.L. Haynes 62; R.G.D. Willis 5-65). _West Indies won by 2 wickets._

**Second Test, Lord's:** England 269 (G.A. Gooch 123; M.A. Holding 6-67, J. Garner 4-36) and 133 for 2; West Indies 518 (D.L. Haynes 184, I.V.A. Richards 145, C.H. Lloyd 56). _Match Drawn._

**Third Test, Manchester:** England 150 (B.C. Rose 70) and 391 for 7 (G. Boycott 86, P. Willey 62no, M.W. Gatting 56); West Indies 260 (C.H. Lloyd 101, I.V.A. Richards 65). _Match Drawn_.

**Fourth Test, The Oval:** England 370 (G.A. Gooch 83, G. Boycott 53, B.C. Rose 50) and 209 for 9 dec. (P. Willey 100no; M.A. Holding 4-79); West Indies 265 (S.F.A.F. Bacchus 61; G.R. Dilley 4-57). _Match Drawn._

**Fifth Test, Headingley:** England 143 and 227 for 6 dec. (G.A. Gooch 55); West Indies 245 (G.R. Dilley 4-79). _Match Drawn. West Indies won series 1-0._

**Centenary Test, Lord's:** Australia 385 for 5 dec. (K.J. Hughes 117, G.M. Wood 112, A.R. Border 56no) and 189 for 4 dec. (K.J. Hughes 84, G.S. Chappell 59); England 205 (G. Boycott 62; L.S. Pascoe 5-59, D.K. Lillee 4-43) and 244 for 3 (G. Boycott 128no, M.W. Gatting 51no). _Match Drawn._

### **1980-81**

**First Test, Trinidad:** West Indies 426 for 9 dec (D.L. Haynes 96, C.G. Greenidge 84, C.H. Lloyd 64, A.E. Roberts 50no; J.E. Emburey 5-124); England 178 (C.E.H. Croft 5-40) and 169 (G. Boycott 70). _West Indies won by an innings and 79 runs._

**Second Test, Guyana:** _Match cancelled._

**Third Test, Barbados:** West Indies 265 (C.H. Lloyd 100, I.T. Botham 4-77) and 379 for 7 dec (I.V.A. Richards 182no, C.H. Lloyd 66); England 122 (C.E.H. Croft 4-39) and 224 (G.A. Gooch 116, D.I. Gower 54). _West Indies won by 298 runs._

**Fourth Test, Antigua:** England 271 (P. Willey 102no; C.E.H. Croft 6-74) and 234 for 3 (G. Boycott 104no, G.A. Gooch 83); West Indies 468 (I.V.A. Richards 114, E.H. Mattis 71, C.G. Greenidge 63, M.A. Holding 58no, C.H. Lloyd 58; I.T. Botham 4-127) _Match Drawn._

**Fifth Test, Jamaica:** England 285 (G.A. Gooch 153; M.A. Holding 5-56) and 302 for 6 dec (D.I. Gower 154no, P. Willey 67); West Indies 442 (C.H. Lloyd 95, H.A. Gomes 90no, D.L. Haynes 84, C.G. Greenidge 62; G.R. Dilley 4-116) _Match Drawn. West Indies won series 2-0_.

### **1981**

**First Test, Trent Bridge:** England 185 (M.W. Gatting 52; T.M. Alderman 4-68) and 125 (D.K. Lillee 5-46, T.M. Alderman 5-62); Australia 179 (A.R. Border 63) and 132 for 6 (G.R. Dilley 4-62). _Australia won by 4 wickets._

**Second Test, Lord's:** England 311 (P. Willey 82, M.W. Gatting 59; G.F. Lawson 7-81) and 265 for 8 dec (D.I. Gower 89, G. Boycott 60); Australia 345 (A.R. Border 64) and 90 for 4. _Match Drawn_.

**Third Test, Headingley:** Australia 401 (J. Dyson 102, K.J. Hughes 89, G.N. Yallop 58; I.T. Botham 6-95) and 111 (R.G.D. Willis 8-43); England 174 (I.T. Botham 50; D.K. Lillee 4-49) and 356 (I.T. Botham 149no, G.R. Dilley 56; T.M. Alderman 6-135). _England won by 18 runs._

**Fourth Test, Edgbaston:** England 189 (T.M. Alderman 5-42) and 219 (R.J. Bright 5-68); Australia 258 (J.E. Emburey 4-43) and 121 (I.T. Botham 5-11). _England won by 29 runs._

**Fifth Test, Old Trafford:** England 231 (C.J. Tavaré 69, P.J.W. Allott 52no; D.K. Lillee 4-55, T.M. Alderman 4-88) and 404 (I.T. Botham 118, C.J. Tavaré 78, A.P.E. Knott 59, J.E. Emburey 57; T.M. Alderman 5-109); Australia 130 (M.F. Kent 52; R.G.D. Willis 4-53) and 402 (A.R. Border 123no, G.N. Yallop 114). _England won by 103 runs._

**Sixth Test, The Oval:** Australia 352 (A.R. Border 106no, G.M. Wood 66, M.F. Kent 56; I.T. Botham 6-125, R.G.D. Willis 4-91) and 344 (D.M. Wellham 103; A.R. Border 84, R.W. Marsh 52; M. Hendrick 4-82, I.T. Botham 4-128); England 314 (G. Boycott 137, M.W. Gatting 53; D.K. Lillee 7-89) and 261 for 7 (A.P.E. Knott 70no, M.W. Gatting 56, J.M. Brearley 51; D.K. Lillee 4-70). _Match Drawn. England won series 3-1_.

### **1981-82**

**First Test, Bombay:** India 179 (S.M. Gavaskar 55; G.R. Dilley 4-47, I.T. Botham 4-72) and 227 (I.T. Botham 5-61); England 166 (G. Boycott 60, C.J. Tavaré 56; D. Doshi 5-39) and 102 (Madan Lal 5-23, Kapil Dev 5-70). _India won by 138 runs._

**Second Test, Bangalore:** England 400 (D.I. Gower 82, G.A. Gooch 58, I.T. Botham 55; R.J. Shastri 4-83) and 174 for 3 dec. (G. Boycott 50); India 428 (S.M. Gavaskar 172, K. Srikkanth 65, Kapil Dev 59; J.K. Lever 5-100) _Match Drawn._

**Third Test, New Delhi:** England 476 for 9 dec. (C.J. Tavare 149, G. Boycott 105, I.T. Botham 66; Madan Lal 5-85) and 68 for 0 dec.; India 487 (G.R. Viswanath 107, R.J. Shastri 93, S.M.H. Kirmani 67). _Match Drawn._

**Fourth Test, Calcutta:** England 248 (K.W.R. Fletcher 69, I.T. Botham 58; Kapil Dev 6-91) and 265 for 5 dec. (D.I. Gower 74, G.A. Gooch 63, K.W.R. Fletcher 60no); India 208 (D.B. Vengsarkar 70) and 170 for 3 (S.M. Gavaskar 83no) _Match Drawn._

**Fifth Test, Madras:** India 481 for 4 dec. (G.R. Viswanath 222, Y. Sharma 140, D.B. Vengsarkar 71no) and 160 for 3 dec. (P. Roy 60no); England 328 (G.A. Gooch 127, D.I. Gower 64, I.T. Botham 52; D. Doshi 4-69). _Match Drawn._

**Sixth Test, Kanpur:** England 378 for 9 dec. (I.T. Botham 142, D.I. Gower 85, G.A. Gooch 58; D. Doshi 4-81); India 377 for 7 dec. (Kapil Dev 116, G.R. Viswanath 74, Y. Sharma 55no, S.M. Gavaskar 52). _Match Drawn. India won series 1-0._

**Only Test, Colombo:** Sri Lanka 218 (R.S. Madugalle 65, A. Ranatunga 54; D.L. Underwood 5-28) and 175 (R.L. Dias 77; J.E. Emburey 6-33); England 223 (D.I. Gower 89; A.L.F. de Mel 4-70) and 171 for 3 (C.J. Tavaré 85). _England won by 3 wickets._

### **1982**

**First Test, Lord's:** England 433 (D.W. Randall 126, I.T. Botham 67, P.H. Edmonds 64; Kapil Dev 5-125) and 67 for 3; India 128 (I.T. Botham 5-46) and 369 (D.B. Vengsarkar 157, Kapil Dev 89; R.G.D. Willis 6-101). _England won by 7 wickets._

**Second Test, Old Trafford:** England 425 (I.T. Botham 128, G. Miller 98, G. Cook 66, C.J. Tavaré 57; D. Doshi 6-102); India 379 for 8 (S.M. Patil 129no, Kapil Dev 65, S.M.H. Kirmani 58, G.R. Viswanath 54). _Match Drawn._

**Third Test, The Oval:** England 594 (I.T. Botham 208, A.J. Lamb 107, D.W. Randall 95, G. Cook 50; D. Doshi 4-175) and 191 for 3 dec. (C.J. Tavaré 75no); India 410 (Kapil Dev 97, R.J. Shastri 66, S.M. Patil 62, G.R. Viswanath 56) and 111 for 3 (G.R. Viswanath 75no). _Match Drawn. England won series 1-0._

**First Test, Edgbaston:** England 272 (D.I. Gower 74, C.J. Tavare 54; Imran Khan 7-52) and 291 (D.W. Randall 105, R.W. Taylor 54; Tahir Naqqash 5-40); Pakistan 251 (Mansoor Akhtar 58; I.A. Greig 4-53) and 199 (Imran Khan 65; I.T. Botham 4-70). _England won by 113 runs._

**Second Test, Lord's:** Pakistan 428 for 8 dec. (Mohsin Khan 200, Zaheer Abbas 75, Mansoor Akhtar 57; R.D. Jackman 4-110) and 77 for 0; England 227 (Abdul Qadir 4-29) and 276 (C.J. Tavaré 82, I.T. Botham 69; Mudassar Nazar 6-32). _Pakistan won by 10 wickets._

**Third Test, Headingley:** Pakistan 275 (Imran Khan 67no, Mudassar Nazar 65, Javed Miandad 54; I.T. Botham 4-70) and 199 (Javed Miandad 52; I.T. Botham 5-74); England 256 (D.I. Gower 74, I.T. Botham 57; Imran Khan 5-49) and 219 for 7 (G. Fowler 86). _England won by 3 wickets and won series 2-1._

### **1982-83**

**First Test, Perth:** England 411 (C.J. Tavaré 89, D.W. Randall 78, D.I. Gower 72; B. Yardley 5-107) and 358 (D.W. Randall 115, A.J. Lamb 56; G.F. Lawson 5-108); Australia 424 for 9 dec. (G.S. Chappell 117, K.J. Hughes 62, D.W. Hookes 56, J. Dyson 52, G.F. Lawson 50; G. Miller 4-70) and 73 for 2. _Match Drawn._

**Second Test, Brisbane:** England 219 (A.J. Lamb 72; G.F. Lawson 6-47) and 309 (G. Fowler 83, G. Miller 60; J.R. Thomson 5-73, G.F. Lawson 5-87); Australia 341 (K.C. Wessels 162, G.S. Chappell 53, B. Yardley 53; R.G.D. Willis 5-66) and 190 for 3 (D.W. Hookes 66no). _Australia won by 7 wickets._

**Third Test, Adelaide:** Australia 438 (G.S. Chappell 115, K.J. Hughes 88; I.T. Botham 4-112) and 83 for 2; England 216 (A.J. Lamb 82, D.I. Gower 60; G.F. Lawson 4-56) and 304 (D.I. Gower 114, I.T. Botham 58; G.F. Lawson 5-66). _Australia won by 8 wickets_.

**Fourth Test, Melbourne:** England 284 (C.J. Tavaré 89, A.J. Lamb 83; R.M. Hogg 4-69, B. Yardley 4-89) and 294 (G. Fowler 65; G.F. Lawson 4-66); Australia 287 (K.J. Hughes 66, D.W. Hookes 53, R.W. Marsh 53) and 288 (D.W. Hookes 68, A.R. Border 62no; N.G. Cowans 6-77). _England won by 3 runs._

**Fifth Test, Sydney:** Australia 314 (A.R. Border 89, J. Dyson 79; I.T. Botham 4-75) and 382 (K.J. Hughes 137, A.R. Border 83, K.C. Wessels 53); England 237 (D.I. Gower 70, D.W. Randall 70; J.R. Thomson 5-70) and 314 for 7 (E.E. Hemmings 95; B. Yardley 4-139). _Match Drawn. Australia won series 2-1._

### **1983**

**First Test, The Oval:** England 209 (D.W. Randall 75no; R.J. Hadlee 6-53) and 446 for 6 dec. (C.J. Tavaré 109, G. Fowler 105, A.J. Lamb 102no); New Zealand 196 (R.J. Hadlee 84; R.G.D. Willis 4-43, I.T. Botham 4-62) and 270 (J.G. Wright 88, G.P. Howarth 67). _England won by 189 runs._

**Second Test, Headingley** : England 225 (C.J. Tavare 69, A.J. Lamb 58; B.L. Cairns 7-74) and 252 (D.I. Gower 112no; E.J. Chatfield 5-95); New Zealand 377 (J.G. Wright 93, R.J. Hadlee 75, B.A. Edgar 84; R.G.D. Willis 4-57) and 103 for 5 (R.G.D. Willis 5-35). _New Zealand won by 5 wickets._

**Third Test, Lord's:** England 326 (D.I. Gower 108, M.W. Gatting 81, C.J. Tavaré 51; R.J. Hadlee 5-93) and 211 (I.T. Botham 61); New Zealand 191 (B.A. Edgar 70; N.G.B. Cook 5-35, I.T. Botham 4-50) and 219 (J.V. Coney 68). _England won by 127 runs._

**Fourth Test, Trent Bridge:** England 420 (I.T. Botham 103, D.W. Randall 83, D.I. Gower 72; J.G. Bracewell 4-108) and 297 (A.J. Lamb 137no; R.J. Hadlee 4-85); New Zealand 207 (B.A. Edgar 62; N.G.B. Cook 5-63) and 345 (R.J. Hadlee 92no, B.A. Edgar 76, J.V. Coney 68; N.G.B. Cook 4-87). _England won by 165 runs and won series 3-1._

### **1983-84**

**First Test, Wellington:** New Zealand 219 (J.J. Crowe 52; I.T. Botham 5-59) and 537 (J.V. Coney 174no, M.D. Crowe 100, B.L. Cairns 64); England 463 (D.W. Randall 164, I.T. Botham 138; B.L. Cairns 7-143) and 69 for 0. _Match Drawn._

**Second Test, Christchurch:** New Zealand 307 (R.J. Hadlee 99; R.G.D. Willis 4-51); England 82 and 93 (R.J. Hadlee 5-28). _New Zealand won by an innings and 132 runs._

**Third Test, Auckland:** New Zealand 496 (J.G. Wright 130, J.J. Crowe 128, I.D.S. Smith 113no) and 16 for 0; England 439 (D.W. Randall 104, C.L. Smith 91, I.T. Botham 70). _Match Drawn. New Zealand won series 1-0._

**First Test, Karachi:** England 182 (D.I. Gower 58; Abdul Qadir 5-74, Sarfraz Nawaz 4-42) and 159 (D.I. Gower 57); Pakistan 277 (Salim Malik 74, Mohsin Khan 54; N.G.B. Cook 6-65) and 66 for 7 (N.G.B. Cook 5-18). _Pakistan won by 3 wickets._

**Second Test, Faisalabad:** Pakistan 449 for 8 dec. (Saleem Malik 116, Wasim Raja 112) and 137 for 4 (Saleem Malik 76); England 546 for 8 dec. (D.I. Gower 152, V.J. Marks 83, M.W. Gatting 75, C.L. Smith 66, D.W. Randall 65) _Match Drawn._

**Third Test, Lahore:** England 241 (V.J. Marks 74, G. Fowler 58; Abdul Qadir 5-84, Sarfraz Nawaz 4-49) and 344 for 9 dec. (D.I. Gower 173no; V.J. Marks 55, M.W. Gatting 53); Pakistan 343 (Sarfraz Nawaz 90, Zaheer Abbas 82no, Qasim Umar 73; N.A. Foster 5-67) and 217 for 6 (Mohsin Khan 104, Shoaib Mohammad 80; N.G. Cowans 5-42). _Match Drawn. Pakistan won series 1-0._

### **1984**

**First Test, Edgbaston:** England 191 (I.T. Botham 64; J. Garner 4-53) and 235 (P.R. Downton 56; J. Garner 5-55); West Indies 606 (H.A. Gomes 143, I.V.A. Richards 117, E.A. Baptiste 87, C.H. Lloyd 71, M.A. Holding 69; D.R. Pringle 5-108). _West Indies won by an innings and 180 runs._

**Second Test, Lord's:** England 286 (G. Fowler 106, B.C. Broad 55; M.D. Marshall 6-85) and 300 for 9 dec. (A.J. Lamb 110, I.T. Botham 81); West Indies 245 (I.V.A. Richards 72; I.T. Botham 8-103) and 344 for 1 (C.G. Greenidge 214, H.A. Gomes 92no). _West Indies won by 9 wickets._

**Third Test, Headingley:** England 270 (A.J. Lamb 100; M.A. Holding 4-70) and 159 (G. Fowler 50; M.D. Marshall 7-53); West Indies 302 (H.A. Gomes 104no, M.A. Holding 59; P.J.W. Allott 6 for 61) and 131 for 2. _West Indies won by 8 wickets._

**Fourth Test, Old Trafford:** West Indies 500 (C.G. Greenidge 223, P.L. Dujon 101, W.W. Davis 77; P.I. Pocock 4-121); England 280 (A.J. Lamb 100no; J. Garner 4-51) and 156 (D.I. Gower 57no). _West Indies won by an innings and 64 runs_.

**Fifth Test, The Oval:** West Indies 190 (C.H. Lloyd 60no; I.T. Botham 5-72) and 346 (D.L. Haynes 125); England 162 (M.D. Marshall 5-35) and 202 (I.T. Botham 54; M.A. Holding 5-43, J. Garner 4-51). _West Indies won by 172 runs and won series 5-0._

**Only Test, Lord's:** Sri Lanka 491 for 7 dec. (S. Wettimuny 190, L.R.D. Mendis 111, A. Ranatunga 84) and 294 for 7 dec. (S.A.R. Silva 102, L.R.D. Mendis 94; I.T. Botham 6-90); England 370 (A.J. Lamb 107, B.C. Broad 86, D.I. Gower 55; V.B. John 4-98, A.L.F. de Mel 4-110). _Match Drawn._

### **1984-85**

**First Test, Bombay:** England 195 (L. Sivaramakrishnan 6-64) and 317 (M.W. Gatting 136, P.R. Downton 62, G. Fowler 55; L. Sivaramakrishnan 6-117); India 465 (R.J. Shastri 142, S.M.H. Kirmani 102) and 51 for 2. _India won by 8 wickets._

**Second Test, Delhi:** India 307 (Kapil Dev 60; R.M. Ellison 4-66) and 235 (S.M. Gavaskar 65, M. Amarnath 64; P.H. Edmonds 4-60, P.I. Pocock 4-93); England 418 (R.T. Robinson 160, P.R. Downton 74, A.J. Lamb 52; L. Sivaramakrishnan 6-99) and 127 for 2. _England won by 8 wickets._

**Third Test, Calcutta:** India 437 (R.J. Shastri 111, M. Azharuddin 110) and 29 for 1; England 276 (A.J. Lamb 67; C. Sharma 4-38, N.S. Yadav 4-86). _Match Drawn._

**Fourth Test, Madras:** India 272 (M. Amarnath 78, Kapil Dev 53; N.A. Foster 6-104) and 412 (M. Azharuddin 105, M. Amarnath 95, S.M.H. Kirmani 95; N.A. Foster 5-59); England 652 (M.W. Gatting 207, G. Fowler 201, R.T. Robinson 74, A.J. Lamb 62) and 35 for 1. _England won by 9 wickets._

**Fifth Test, Kanpur:** India 553 for 8 dec. (D.B. Vengsarkar 137, M. Azharuddin 122, K. Srikkanth 84, R.J. Shastri 59) and 97 for 1 dec.; England 417 (R.T. Robinson 96, D.I. Gower 78, G. Fowler 69, M.W. Gatting 62; Kapil Dev 4-81) and 91 for 0. _Match Drawn. England won series 2-1._

### **1985**

**First Test, Headingley:** Australia 331 (A.M.J. Hilditch 119) and 324 (W.B. Phillips 91, A.M.J. Hilditch 80, K.C. Wessels 64; J.E. Emburey 5-82, I.T. Botham 4-107); England 533 (R.T. Robinson 175, I.T. Botham 60, P.R. Downton 54, M.W. Gatting 53; C.J. McDermott 4-134) and 123 for 5. _England won by 5 wickets._

**Second Test, Lord's:** England 290 (D.I. Gower 86; C.J. McDermott 6-70) and 261 (I.T. Botham 85, M.W. Gatting 75no; R.G. Holland 5-68); Australia 425 (A.R. Border 196m G.M. Ritchie 94; I.T. Botham 5-109) and 127 for 6 _Australia won by 4 wickets._

**Third Test, Trent Bridge:** England 456 (D.I. Gower 166, M.W. Gatting 74, G.A. Gooch 70; G.F. Lawson 5-103) and 196 for 2 (R.T. Robinson 77no); Australia 539 (G.M. Wood 172, G.M. Ritchie 146). _Match Drawn._

**Fourth Test, Old Trafford:** Australia 257 (D.C. Boon 61; P.H. Edmonds 4-40, I.T. Botham 4-79) and 340 for 5 (A.R. Border 146no, K.C. Wessels 50; J.E. Emburey 4-99); England 482 for 9 dec. (M.W. Gatting 160, G.A. Gooch 74, A.J. Lamb 67; C.J. McDermott 8-141). _Match Drawn._

**Fifth Test, Edgbaston:** Australia 335 (K.C. Wessels 83, G.F. Lawson 53; R.M. Ellison 6-77) and 142 (W.B. Phillips 59; R.M. Ellison 4-27); England 595 for 5 dec. (D.I. Gower 215, R.T. Robinson 148, M.W. Gatting 100no). _England won by an innings and 118 runs._

**Sixth Test, The Oval:** England 464 (G.A. Gooch 196, D.I. Gower 157; G.F. Lawson 4-101, C.J. McDermott 4-108); Australia 241 (G.M. Ritchie 64no) and 129 (A.R. Border 58; R.M. Ellison 5-46). _England won by an innings and 94 runs and won the series 3-1._

### **1985-86**

**First Test, Kingston:** England 159 (G.A. Gooch 51; B.P. Patterson 4-30) and 152 (P. Willey 71); West Indies 307 (C.G. Greenidge 58, H.A. Gomes 56, P.J.L. Dujon 54; R.M. Ellison 5-78) and 5 for 0. _West Indies won by 10 wickets._

**Second Test, Port-of-Spain:** England 176 (D.I. Gower 66, A.J. Lamb 62; M.D. Marshall 4-38) and 315 (C.A. Walsh 4-74, M.D. Marshall 4-94); West Indies 399 (R.B. Richardson 102, D.L. Haynes 67, M.D. Marshall 62no; J.E. Emburey 5-78) and 95 for 3. _West Indies won by 7 wickets_.

**Third Test, Bridgetown:** West Indies 418 (R.B. Richardson 160, D.L. Haynes 84, I.V.A. Richards 51; J.G. Thomas 4-70); England 189 (D.I. Gower 66, G.A. Gooch 53; M.D. Marshall 4-62) and 199 (J. Garner 4-69). _West Indies won by an innings and 30 runs_.

**Fourth Test, Port-of-Spain:** England 200 (J. Garner 4-43) and 150; West Indies 312 (I.V.A. Richards 87, I.T. Botham 5-71) and 39 for 0. _West Indies won by 10 wickets_.

**Fifth Test, St John's:** West Indies 474 (D.L. Haynes 131, M.D. Marshall 76, M.A. Holding 73, R.A. Harper 60) and 246 for 2 dec. (I.V.A. Richards 110no, D.L. Haynes 70); England 310 (D.I. Gower 90, W.N. Slack 52, G.A. Gooch 51; J. Garner 4-67) and 170 (G.A. Gooch 51). _West Indies won by 240 runs and won series 5-0._

### **1986**

**First Test, Lord's:** England 294 (G.A. Gooch 114, D.R. Pringle 63; C. Sharma 5-64) and 180 (Kapil Dev 4-52); India 341 (D.B. Vengsarkar 126no, M. Amarnath 69; G.R. Dilley 4-136) and 136 for 5. _India won by 5 wickets._

**Second Test, Headingley:** India 272 (D.B. Vengsarkar 61) and 237 (D.R. Vengsarkar 102no; J.K. Lever 4-64, D.R. Pringle 4-73); England 102 (R.M.H. Binny 5-40) and 128 (Maninder Singh 4-26). _India won by 279 runs._

**Third Test, Edgbaston:** England 390 (M.W. Gatting 183no; C. Sharma 4-130) and 235 (C. Sharma 6-58); India 390 (M. Amarnath 79, M. Azharuddin 64) and 174 for 5 (S.M. Gavaskar 54; P.H. Edmonds 4-31). _Match Drawn. India won series 2-0._

**First Test, Lord's:** England 307 (M.D. Moxon 74, D.I. Gower 62: R.J. Hadlee 6-80) and 295 for 6 dec. (G.A. Gooch 183); New Zealand 342 (M.D. Crowe 106, B.A. Edgar 83, J.V. Coney 51; G.R. Dilley 4-82, P.H. Edmonds 4-97) and 41 for 2. _Match Drawn._

**Second Test, Trent Bridge:** England 256 (D.I. Gower 71, C.W.J. Athey 55; R.J. Hadlee 6-80) and 230 (J.E. Emburey 75; R.J. Hadlee 4-60); New Zealand 413 (J.G. Bracewell 110, R.J. Hadlee 68, J.G. Wright 58, E.J. Gray 50) and 77 for 2. _New Zealand won by 8 wickets._

**Third Test, The Oval:** New Zealand 287 (J.G. Wright 119; G.R. Dilley 4-92) and 7 for 0. England 388 for 5 dec. (D.I. Gower 131, M.W. Gatting 121, I.T. Botham 59no). _Match Drawn. New Zealand won series 1-0._

### **1986-87**

**First Test, Brisbane:** England 456 (I.T. Botham 138, C.W.J. Athey 76, M.W. Gatting 61, D.I. Gower 51) and 77 for 3; Australia 258 (G.R. Marsh 56, G.R.J. Matthews 56no; G.R. Dilley 5-68) and 282 (G.R. Marsh 110; J.E. Emburey 5-80) _England won by 7 wickets._

**Second Test, Perth:** England 592 (B.C. Broad 162, D.I. Gower 136, C.J. Richards 133, C.W.J. Athey 96; B.A. Reid 4-115) and 199 for 8 dec. (M.W. Gatting 70; S.R. Waugh 5-69); Australia 401 (A.R. Border 125, S.R. Waugh 71; G.R. Dilley 4-79) and 197 for 4 (D.M. Jones 69). _Match Drawn._

**Third Test, Adelaide:** Australia 514 for 5 dec. (D.C. Boon 103, D.M. Jones 93, G.R.J. Matthews 73no, A.R. Border 70) and 201 for 3 dec. (A.R. Border 100no); England 455 (B.C. Broad 116, M.W. Gatting 100; B.A. Reid 4-64, P.R. Sleep 4-132) and 39 for 2. _Match Drawn._

**Fourth Test, Melbourne:** Australia 141 (D.M. Jones 59; I.T. Botham 5-41, G.C. Small 5-48) and 194 (G.R. Marsh 60); England 349 (B.C. Broad 112; B.A. Reid 4-78, C.J. McDermott 4-83) _England won by an innings and 14 runs._

**Fifth Test, Sydney:** Australia 343 (D.M. Jones 184no; G.C. Small 5-75) and 251 (S.R. Waugh 73; J.E. Emburey 7-87); England 275 (D.I. Gower 72, J.E. Emburey 69; P.L. Taylor 6-78) and 264 (M.W. Gatting 96; P.R. Sleep 5-72) _Australia won by 55 runs. England won series 2-1._

### **1987**

**First Test, Old Trafford:** England 447 (R.T. Robinson 166, B.N. French 59; Wasim Akram 4-111, Mohsin Kamal 4-127); Pakistan 140 for 5 (Mansoor Akhtar 75) _Match Drawn._

**Second Test, Lord's:** England 368 (C.W.J. Athey 123, B.C. Broad 55). _Match Drawn._

**Third Test, Headingley** : England 136 (D.J. Capel 53) and 199 (D.I. Gower 55; Imran Khan 7-40); Pakistan 353 (Saleem Malik 99, Ijaz Ahmed 50; N.A. Foster 8-107) _Pakistan won by an innings and 14 runs._

**Fourth Test, Edgbaston:** Pakistan 439 (Mudasar Nazar 124, Saleem Yousuf 91no, Javed Miandad 75; G.R. Dilley 5-92) and 205 (Shoaib Mohammad 50, N.A. Foster 4-59); England 521 (M.W. Gatting 124, R.T. Robinson 80, D.I. Gower 51, J.E. Emburey 58, B.C. Broad 54; Imran Khan 6-129) and 109 for 7 _Match Drawn._

**Fifth Test, The Oval:** Pakistan 708 (Javed Miandad 260, Imran Khan 118, Saleem Malik 102, Mudassar Nazar 73, Ijaz Ahmed 69; G.R. Dilley 6-154); England 232 (M.W. Gatting 61, J.E. Emburey 53; Abdul Qadir 7-96) and 315 for 4 (M.W. Gatting 150no; I.T. Botham 51no). _Match Drawn. Pakistan won series 1-0._

### **1987-88**

**First Test, Lahore:** England 175 (Abdul Qadir 9-56) and 130 (Abdul Qadir 4-45); Pakistan 392 (Mudassar Nazar 120, Javed Miandad 65) _Pakistan won by an innings and 87 runs._

**Second Test, Faisalabad:** England 292 (B.C. Broad 116, M.W. Gatting 79; Iqbal Qasim 5-83, Abdul Qadir 4-105) and 137 for 6 dec. (G.A. Gooch 65); Pakistan 191 (Saleem Malik 60; N.A. Foster 4-42) and 51 for 1. _Match Drawn._

**Third Test, Karachi:** England 294 (D.J. Capel 98, J.E. Emburey 70; Abdul Qadir 5-88) and 258 for 9 (G.A. Gooch 93, J.E. Emburey 74no; Abdul Qadir 5-98); Pakistan 353 (Aamer Malik 98no, Abdul Qadir 61, Saleem Malik 55, Rameez Raja 50; P.A.J. DeFreitas 5-86). _Match Drawn. Pakistan won series 1-0._

**Bi-Centenary Test, Sydney:** England 425 (B.C. Broad 139; P.L. Taylor 4-84); Australia 214 (D.M. Jones 56) and 328 for 2 (D.C. Boon 184no, G.R. Marsh 56). _Match Drawn._

**First Test, Christchurch:** England 319 (B.C. Broad 114, R.T. Robinson 70; D.K. Morrison 5-69, E.J. Chatfield 4-87) and 152 (E.J. Chatfield 4-36, M.C. Snedden 4-45); New Zealand 168 (G.R. Dilley 6-38) and 130 for 4 (A.H. Jones 54no) _Match Drawn._

**Second Test, Auckland:** New Zealand 301 (J.G. Wright 103; G.R. Dilley 5-60) and 350 for 7 dec. (M.J. Greatbatch 107no, T.J. Franklin 62); England 323 (M.D. Moxon 99; R.T. Robinson 54; E.J. Chatfield 4-37). _Match Drawn._

**Third Test, Wellington:** New Zealand 512 for 6 dec. (M.D. Crowe 143, K.R. Rutherford 107no, M.J. Greatbatch 68, J.G. Bracewell 54); England 183 for 2 (M.D. Moxon 81no, B.C. Broad 61). _Match Drawn. Series drawn 0-0._

### **1988**

**First Test, Trent Bridge:** England 245 (G.A. Gooch 73, B.C. Broad 54; M.D. Marshall 6-59) and 301 for 3 (G.A. Gooch 146, D.I. Gower 88no); West Indies 448 for 9 dec. (C.L. Hooper 84, I.V. A. Richards 80, M.D. Marshall 72, D.L. Haynes 60) _Match Drawn._

**Second Test, Lord's:** West Indies 209 (A.L. Logie 81, P.J.L. Dujon 53; G.R. Dilley 5-55, G.C. Small 4-64) and 397 (C.G. Greenidge 103, A.L. Logie 93no, I.V.A. Richards 72, P.J.L. Dujon 52; G.R. Dilley 4-73, P.W. Jarvis 4-107); England 165 (M.D. Marshall 6-32) and 307 (A.J. Lamb 113, M.D. Marshall 4-60) _West Indies won by 134 runs._

**Third Test, Old Trafford:** England 135 (C.A. Walsh 4-46) and 93 (M.D. Marshall 7-22); West Indies 384 for 7 dec. (R.A. Harper 74, P.J.L Dujon 67). _West Indies won by an innings and 156 runs_.

**Fourth Test, Headingley:** England 201 (A.J. Lamb 64 ret; C.E.L. Ambrose 4-58) and 138 (G.A. Gooch 50); West Indies 275 (R.A. Harper 56, D.L. Haynes 54; D.R. Pringle 5-95) and 67 for 0. _West Indies won by 10 wickets._

**Fifth Test, The Oval:** England 205 (R.A. Smith 57) and 202 (G.A. Gooch 84; W.K.M. Benjamin 4-52); West Indies 183 (P.J.L. Dujon 64; N.A. Foster 5-64) and 226 for 2 (D.L. Haynes 77no, C.G. Greenidge 77). _West Indies won by 8 wickets and won series 4-0._

**Only Test, Lord's** : Sri Lanka 194 (J.R. Ratnayeke 59no) and 331 (A. Ranatunga 78, M.A.R. Samarasekera 57, L.R.D. Mendis 56; P.J. Newport 4-87); England 429 (R.C. Russell 94, G.A. Gooch 75, K.J. Barnett 66, A.J. Lamb 63; G.F. Labrooy 4-119) and 100 for 3. _England won by 7 wickets._

### **1989**

**First Test, Headingley:** Australia 601 for 7 dec. (S.R. Waugh 177no, M.A. Taylor 136, D.M. Jones 79, M.G. Hughes 71, A.R. Border 66) and 230 for 3 dec. (A.R. Border 60no, M.A. Taylor 60); England 430 (A.J. Lamb 125, K.J. Barnett 80, R.A. Smith 66; T.M. Alderman 5-107) and 191 (G.A. Gooch 68; T.M. Alderman 5-44). _Australia won by 210 runs._

**Second Test, Lord's:** England 286 (R.C. Russell 64no, G.A. Gooch 60, D.I. Gower 57; M.G. Hughes 4-71) and 359 (D. Gower 106, R.A. Smith 96; T.M. Alderman 6-128); Australia 528 (S.R. Waugh 152no, D.C. Boon 94, G.F. Lawson 74, M.A. Taylor 62; J.E. Emburey 4-88) and 119 for 4 (D.C. Boon 58no). _Australia won by 6 wickets._

**Third Test, Edgbaston:** Australia 424 (D.M. Jones 157; A.R.C. Fraser 4-63) and 158 for 2 (M.A. Taylor 51); England 242. _Match Drawn._

**Fourth Test, Old Trafford:** England 260 (R.A. Smith 143; G.F. Lawson 6-72) and 264 (R.C. Russell 128no, J.E. Emburey 64; T.M. Alderman 5-66); Australia 447 (S.R. Waugh 92, M.A. Taylor 85, A.R. Border 80, D.M. Jones 69) and 81 for 1 _Australia won by 9 wickets._

**Fifth Test, Trent Bridge:** Australia 602 for 6 dec. (M.A. Taylor 219, G.R. Marsh 138, D.C. Boon 73, A.R. Border 65no); England 255 (R.A. Smith 101; T.M. Alderman 5-69) and 167. _Australia won by an innings and 180 runs_.

**Sixth Test, The Oval:** Australia 468 (D.M. Jones 122, A.R. Border 76, M.A. Taylor 71; D.R. Pringle 4-70) and 219 for 4 dec. (A.R. Border 51no, D.M. Jones 50); England 285 (D.I. Gower 79, G.C. Small 59; T.M. Alderman 5-66) and 143 for 5 (R.A. Smith 77no). _Match Drawn. Australia won series 4-0._

## APPENDIX 2
 **ENGLAND ODI RESULTS IN THE 1980S**

### **1979-80**

World Series Cricket, Australia: Australia 0, England 4; West Indies 2, England 1. Finals: West Indies 2, England 0

### **1980**

England 1, West Indies 1; England 2, Australia 0

### **1980-81**

West Indies 2, England 0

### **1981**

England 1, Australia 2

### **1981-82**

India 2, England 1; Sri Lanka 1, England 1

### **1982**

England 2, India 0; England 2, Pakistan 0

### **1982-83**

World Series Cricket, Australia: Australia 3, England 2; New Zealand 3, England 2

New Zealand 3, England 0

### **1983**

**Prudential World Cup (60 overs, England)**

**Group A, The Oval:** England 322 for 6 (A.J. Lamb 102), New Zealand 216 (M.D. Crowe 97). _England won by 106 runs._

**Group A, Old Trafford:** England 333 for 9 (D.I. Gower 130, A.J. Lamb 53); Sri Lanka 286 (R.G. de Alwis 58no, L.R.D. Mendis 56; V.J. Marks 5-39, G.R. Dilley 4-45) _England won by 47 runs_.

**Group A, Lord's:** Pakistan 193 for 8 (Zaheer Abbas 83no); England 199 for 2, 50.4 overs (G. Fowler 78no). _England won by 8 wickets._

**Group A, Edgbaston:** England 234 (D.I. Gower 92no, G. Fowler 69); New Zealand 238 for 8, 59.5 overs (J.V. Coney 66no, G.P. Howarth 60; R.G.D. Willis 4-42). _New Zealand won by 2 wickets._

**Group A, Old Trafford:** Pakistan 232 (Javed Miandad 67); England 233 for 3, 57.2 overs (G. Fowler 69, C.J. Tavaré 58). _England won by 7 wickets._

**Group A, Headingley:** Sri Lanka 136; England 137 for 1, 24.1 overs (G. Fowler 81no). _England won by 9 wickets._

**Semi-final, Old Trafford:** England 213; India 217 for 4, 54.4 overs (Y. Sharma 61, S. M. Patil 51no). _India won by 6 wickets_.

### **1983-84**

New Zealand 1, England 2; Pakistan 1, England 1

### **1984**

England 1, West Indies 2

### **1984-85**

India 1, England 4

World Championship of Cricket, Australia: Australia 1, England 0; India 1, England 0; Pakistan 1, England 0

Rothman's Trophy, Sharjah: Australia 1, England 0; Pakistan 1, England 0

### **1985**

England 1, Australia 2

### **1985-86**

West Indies 3, England 1

### **1986**

England 1, India 1; England 1, New Zealand 1

### **1986-87**

Benson and Hedges Challenge, Perth: Australia 0, England 1; England 1, West Indies 0; England 1, Pakistan 0. Final: England 1, Pakistan 0

World Series Cup, Australia: England 3, West Indies 1; Australia 3, England 1. Finals: Australia 0, England 2

Sharjah Cup, Sharjah: England 0, India 1; England 1, Pakistan 0; England 1, Australia 0 (England won tournament)

### **1987**

England 2, Pakistan 1

### **1987-88**

**Reliance World Cup (50 overs, India and Pakistan)**

**Group B, Gujrunwala:** West Indies 243 for 7 (R.B. Richardson 53); England 246 for 8, 49.3 overs (A.J. Lamb 67no). _England won by 2 wickets._

**Group B, Rawalpindi:** Pakistan 239 for 7 (Saleem Malik 65, Ijaz Ahmed 59); England 221 (Abdul Qadir 4-31). _Pakistan won by 18 runs._

**Group B, Peshawar:** England 296 for 4 (G.A. Gooch 84, A.J. Lamb 76, M.W. Gatting 58); Sri Lanka 158 for 8, 45 overs. _England won by 108 runs (revised target)._

**Group B, Karachi:** England 244 for 9 (C.W.J. Athey 86, M.W. Gatting 60; Imran Khan 4-37); Pakistan 247 for 3, 49 overs (Rameez Raja 113, Saleem Malik 88) _Pakistan won by 7 wickets._

**Group B, Jaipur:** England 269 for 5 (G.A. Gooch 92), West Indies 235 (R.B. Richardson 93, I.V.A. Richards 51). _England won by 34 runs._

**Group B, Poona:** Sri Lanka 218 for 7 (R.L. Dias 80); England 219 for 2, 41.2 overs (G.A. Gooch 61, R.T. Robinson 55). _England won by 8 wickets._

**Semi-final, Bombay:** England 254 for 6 (G.A. Gooch 115, M.W. Gatting 56); India 219 (M. Azharuddin 64; E.E. Hemmings 4-62). _England won by 35 runs._

**Final, Calcutta:** Australia 253 for 5 (D.C. Boon 75); England 246 for 8 (C.W.J. Athey 58). _Australia won by 7 runs._

Pakistan 0, England 3; Australia 1, England 0; New Zealand 2, England 2

### **1988**

England 3, West Indies 0; England 1, Sri Lanka 0

### **1989**

England 1, Australia 1 (1 tied)

### **1989-90**

Nehru Cup, India: England 1, Sri Lanka 0; England 1, Pakistan 0; India 1, England 0; West Indies 1, England 0. Semi-final: England 0, Pakistan 1.

## APPENDIX 3
 **COUNTY CRICKET WINNERS IN THE 1980s**

## APPENDIX 4
 **NOTES ON CHAPTER HEADINGS**

**Chapter 1:** 'Games Without Frontiers' was released by Peter Gabriel in February 1980, reaching number four in the UK charts. The Pretenders' 'Brass In Pocket' was the first new number one of the decade.

**Chapter 2:** 'The Winner Takes It All' reached number one for Abba in the summer of 1980.

**Chapter 3:** Sharon Redd's 'Can You Handle It?' transferred from the dance floors to the Top 40 in the early weeks of 1981. The Clash's 'Guns of Brixton' was released as a single in July 1980 after featuring on the _London Calling_ album.

**Chapter 4:** 'You Might Need Somebody' was a UK hit in 1981 for American singer Randy Crawford. The Specials' 'Too Much Too Young' had been a controversial number one in 1980.

**Chapter 5:** Pop duo Dollar reached the top twenty with 'Hand Held in Black and White' in 1981. Written in 1981, 'Should I Stay or Should I Go?' took The Clash into the top twenty when released as a single in 1982.

**Chapter 6:** The Human League's 'Don't You Want Me' reached number one in the UK at the end of 1981, repeating the feat in America during the summer of 1982.

**Chapter 7:** Featured in the movie _Rocky III_ , 'Eye of the Tiger' gave Survivor a number one on both sides of the Atlantic in summer 1982. Simple Minds released 'Promised You a Miracle' in April 1982, their first top twenty success in the UK.

**Chapter 8:** Australian band Men at Work saw 'Down Under' go to number one in the UK just as their cricketers were wrapping up the Ashes series in January 1983. 'Mad World' was the first UK hit for Tears For Fears in late 1982 and became a worldwide hit the following year.

**Chapter 9:** With a chorus featuring Michael Jackson, Rockwell's 'Somebody's Watching Me' was in the charts early in 1984, just as media attention on England's antics on tour was at its most frenzied.

**Chapter 10:** Queen's single 'It's A Hard Life' gave them another top ten hit in 1984. Originally released in 1983, 'Searchin' (I Gotta Find a Man)' gave Hazell Dean her first top ten success when re-issued a year later.

**Chapter 11** : Written and originally recorded by Billy Bragg in 1983, Kirsty McColl took 'A New England' to number seven during the winter of 1984-85.

**Chapter 12:** Title track to Frankie Goes to Hollywood's debut album, 'Welcome to the Pleasuredome' was released as a single in 1985.

**Chapter 13:** 'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now' had been a hit for The Smiths early in 1984.

**Chapter 14:** 'Land of Confusion' was released by Genesis in 1986, with a video featuring puppets from TV show _Spitting Image._

**Chapter 15:** _EastEnders_ actor Nick Berry (Simon Wicks) had a number one hit with 'Every Loser Wins' as England's unfancied team were embarking on their Ashes tour in the autumn of 1986.

**Chapter 16:** Madonna released 'Causing A Commotion' as a single in 1987, reaching number four. All-girl band The Bangles took 'Hazy Shade of Winter', their version of an old Simon and Garfunkel hit, into the charts early in 1988.

**Chapter 17:** Originally a hit for Rod Stewart in 1977, 'I Don't Want to Talk About It' was taken to number three in the summer of 1988 by Everything But The Girl. 'I Owe You Nothing' gave Bros their only UK number one during the same summer.

**Chapter 18:** 'Right Back Where We Started From' saw Sinitta reach number four in the summer of 1989, with a song originally released in 1975 by Maxine Nightingale. The Stone Roses' 'Fool's Gold' was in the charts throughout the final month of the decade, signalling the start of the 'Madchester' musical movement that became a far greater definition of the 1990s than the performance of the England team.

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 Greig, who skippered WSC's World XI, was joined by John Snow and Dennis Amiss, whose Test careers appeared to be over anyway, veterans Alan Knott and Derek Underwood and batsman Bob Woolmer.

 'I would back myself against [Brearley] as an opener in any competition known to cricket,' Boycott wrote in his 1980 book _Opening Up_.
 It was while on a pre-Christmas night out with Scunthorpe team-mates that Botham became caught up in an incident that would lead to him departing for the West Indies with a charge of assault occasioning actual bodily harm hanging over him. After words and scuffles in a nightclub, goalkeeper Joe Neenan ended up chasing and thumping naval apprentice Steven Isbister, who told police – and newspaper reporters – that Botham had been part of the attack. While Neenan pleaded guilty before a magistrate, Botham opted for trial at Grimsby Crown Court. After a three-day hearing later in the year, the jury were unable to agree so judge Richard Hutchinson ordered a not guilty verdict.

 Touring teams to England were generally spared such problems, partly by the wide availability of appropriate facilities and also because the nature of their schedules left little time for practice days anyway. The 1976 West Indian tourists, for example, had competitive cricket scheduled on 98 days out of 123.

 Jackman was not the first member of the touring party to receive a deportation order. In Trinidad, physiotherapist Bernard Thomas had stitched up a young English supporter who had cut her eye in a swimming pool fall, only to awake the next day to find he was being kicked out for 'practising medicine without a work permit'. The team was due to depart anyway and in the end the order was rescinded.
 English cricket continued to experiment with Sunday play in some Test matches until the series against New Zealand in 1983. After that the idea was shelved for the remainder of the decade because of poor attendance. England played their first Sunday one-day international against Sri Lanka in 1988.

 The Test finished as the first since 1934 without a single player having reached 50.
 Covered in the next chapter, along with the 1982-83 Ashes tour that preceded it.
 Most notably, Millwall fans had just been on the rampage during a shock FA Cup defeat at non-league Slough, while an exasperated FA announced that it was powerless to punish Leeds United for the actions of their fans on away trips.

 England had beaten Australia by the same margin at Old Trafford in 1902. There had been one tie, Australia against the West Indies in Brisbane in 1960-61.
 I discuss at length the importance of the West Indian teams to the growing Caribbean population in Britain in _Grovel!_ , the story of the 1976 tour of England.

 Foster would eventually retire from cricket at the age of 31 because of recurring knee injuries
 Estimates of fatalities rose to between 4,000 and 8,000 in the immediate aftermath and up to double that amount in the longer term. By 2006, official government estimates said more than half a million had suffered some kind of injury or illness.
 Fowler failed to reach fifty in his first twenty-three first-class and List A innings of the season, including MCC against the touring Australians and the first one-day international.
 Small was born with Klippel-Feil syndrome, the congenital fusing of two vertebrae that can give the sufferer the appearance of having a shortened neck.

 Bob Woolmer scored centuries in three consecutive Ashes Tests spanning 1975 to 1977, but missed out in the Centenary Test in between.
 The ICC introduced one neutral umpire per Test in 1992 and increased it to two in 1994.
 I was assistant sports editor of _Today_ at the time and recall only frantic phone calls back and forth with our cricket writers, Graham Otway and Rob Steen; no issuing of instructions from on high to 'get Gatting'.

 In 1993, the County Championship would become an entirely four-day competition.
 Indicative of the selectors' ambivalence over Pringle was the fact that, seven years after his debut, he had only just played his first Test in an odd-numbered year.

 They were eventually replaced by Greg Thomas and an uncapped player, Sussex's Allan Wells.

 When F.W. de Klerk, who acceded to the presidency in August through the ill-health and loss of cabinet support of P.W. Botha, relaxed the laws on public demonstrations it made the rebel tourists an obvious target when they arrived early in 1990. 'I thought Mike Gatting might get killed in Pietermaritzburg,' Ali Bacher confessed, referring to one particularly ugly, violent protest. When Nelson Mandela was released on 11 February, the tour was cut short and the following year's tour cancelled. Within two years South Africa was back playing officially-sanctioned international cricket, at which point the bans on the rebel players were lifted, allowing Gatting to return to the England team in 1993.

_Surrey bowler Robin Jackman says goodbye to his children as he prepares to fly to the West Indies, triggering events that saw the cancellation of one Test and almost the abandonment of the entire 1980-81 tour_

_Roland Butcher arrives home with Geoff Boycott after becoming the first black player to represent England in Test cricket during the tour of the West Indies. One year later, Boycott would be returning from a tour in more controversial circumstances, his England career over_

_The sound of silence: Ian Botham heads back to the Lord's pavilion after bagging a pair in his final game as England captain_

_Mike Gatting and Bob Willis celebrate the wicket of Graham Yallop as England move closer to their remarkable triumph at Headingley in 1981_

_Relieved of the burden of captaincy, Ian Botham returned to form under the leadership of Mike Brearley. Here the two enjoy the moment of victory at Headingley_

_Ian Botham grabs a stump and races to the Edgbaston pavilion after his five-wicket spell conjured up another breathtaking victory in the Ashes summer of 1981_

_Allan Lamb, the only England batsman to score consistent runs against the mighty West Indies throughout the decade, on the attack against them in the Texaco Trophy in 1984_

_'It's not like playing cricket' is Graeme Fowler's verdict on facing the West Indies bowlers in 1984. Here he ducks under a bouncer from Malcolm Marshall at Headingley_

_Amid the chaos of the decade, England achieved some of their most memorable Ashes victories. Allan Lamb, Mike Gatting, skipper David Gower, Ian Botham and Paul Downton celebrate at the end of a 1985 series that Gower described as the high point of his career_

_His nose smashed by a Malcolm Marshall bouncer, Mike Gatting arrives home at Heathrow Airport as the latest victim of the West Indies pace attack_

_Ian Botham arrives at Lord's to be handed a two-month ban from cricket after admitting in a newspaper article that he had smoked cannabis_

_The victorious England touring party of 1986-87 prior to departure for Australia. Back row: Laurie Brown (physio), Bruce French, Wilf Slack, Phil DeFreitas, Chris Broad, James Whitaker, Gladstone Small, Jack Richards, Bill Athey, Peter Austen (scorer). Front row: Micky Stewart (team manager), Neil Foster, Ian Botham, David Gower, Mike Gatting, Peter Lush (tour manager), John Emburey, Phil Edmonds, Allan Lamb, Graham Dilley_

_Chris Broad enjoys his maiden Test century in Perth, the start of his triumphant march around Australia on the 1986-87 tour_

_Mike Gatting lifts the Perth Challenge trophy after victory over Pakistan, one of three prizes captured by England in Australia_

_Gladstone Small, who made a decisive contribution to England's Ashes success, is congratulated on another wicket by Mike Gatting, wicketkeeper Jack Richards and Ian Botham_

_Mike Gatting, England's first captain of the summer, and Graham Gooch, the fourth, chat with Micky Stewart during the fifth Test against the West Indies at The Oval_

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