We spent most of our summer holidays at Seaview on the Isle of Wight playing beach cricket . . .
and most of the rest of the time playing cricket in the garden at home. Here, I am mowing and rolling the pitch for my homespun version of England vs Australia, 1968.
The real thing: 1968 at the Oval, a famous and favourite photograph. After volunteers from the crowd helped to dry the square, Derek Underwood did the rest. Every England fielder is around the bat as John Inverarity is given out lbw by umpire Charlie Elliott with six minutes left in the match.
Batting at my school, Bradfield. Not the best view of a beautiful ground.
Colin Ingleby-Mackenzie and Ted Dexter—two free spirits who captured the very essence of cricket and of life.
John Snow traps Ian Chappell lbw in the semifinal of the 1975 World Cup, a low-scoring match won by Australia after Gary Gilmour took 6 for 14 with his left-arm swing. Battles between the Chappells and Snow captivated me.
Peter Sainsbury leads out Hampshire against the Australians in 1975 at Southampton. I was there that day, on a school trip, and saw Barry Richards bat for the first time. The little cottage in the middle of the buildings behind the players is the dressing room in which I was to spend many happy summers.
September 1978—arriving in Australia for the first time, tired and embarrassingly overweight. Goodness knows what Dutchy thought when I entered the arrivals hall at Sydney Airport.
Tony Greig and Kerry Packer, two men who pushed cricket—kicking and screaming—into the commercial age. Twenty-six years later I was to work alongside Greig—and to discover there was more to Packer than this smile.
I was in the crowd at the WSC Supertest Final at the SCG, February 1979. Barry Richards made an unbeaten hundred to see the World XI home, and asked me into the dressing room for a drink afterwards. Imagine the thrill of that. It was when I first met Greigy.
Dennis Lillee—a primal force and magnificent sight. Basil D’Oliveira looks remarkably calm, but then he was.
Barry Richards, master.
Mark Nicholas, pupil.
Greg Chappell, elegant even in the pouring rain, at the Oval in 1977. Chappell finished unbeaten on 125 and Australia won in a thrilling finish at 8.15 in the evening.
Garry Sobers and Allan Knott—a perfect study in the art of the game.
Mike Procter taking 4 wickets in five balls during his raid on the 1977 Benson & Hedges quarterfinal at Southampton. We watched from inside the scoreboard, spellbound.
Graeme Pollock—disbelieving bowlers were left stranded by drives and pulls that destroyed their spirit.
A characteristic image of Gordon Greenidge: left knee up, hooking. How about Brian Close at short leg—no helmet and eye following the ball into the bleachers. What a man!
An amazing shot of Thommo about to fire the catapult. Rodney Marsh is a long, long way back and not a muscle has moved in David Gower’s body.
Ian Botham finishes the match at Edgbaston in 1981. ‘Hampshire were playing Kent at Canterbury and during tea we all watched the TV in the Kent dressing room. Things didn’t look good for England but Alan Knott said, “Don’t worry, the gorilla will take 5 for none and we’ll win by 20.” Botham took 5 for 1 and England won by 29.’ The wicketkeeper is Bob Taylor; he seems pleased!
The deck chairs create a false sense of peace. There was no peace against Imran Khan at Hove. This superb athlete and hugely charismatic man was a frightening opponent for a wannabe young cricketer.
A few fast bowlers might be thought of as the best ever. In the modern age of the game, Malcolm Marshall and Dennis Lillee are the two who tend to receive most votes. This dramatic picture of Maco gives a sense of energy, athleticism, strength and speed.
We were all delighted when Paul Terry was picked for England but, in his second Test at Old Trafford, Winston Davis broke his arm. Bravely, he came out to help Allan Lamb get to a hundred, which Lamby did. Paul kept out the first one from Joel Garner but not the second!
Writing about Viv Richards, John Arlott said, ‘He exerted a headlong mastery even more considerable than Bradman at the same age.’
The Smith brothers, Robin and Chris—it was a profound moment for Hampshire cricket when they were signed, a breath of the freshest air.
Batting in the Parks at Oxford with David Gower, soon after he came to Hampshire. It was fun, an almost surreal experience.
Benson & Hedges Cup winners, 1988. Hampshire had never made it to a Lord’s final. This was one of our proudest days.
With Maco and the Benson & Hedges Cup in 1992. He was a dear friend and unflinching supporter, whose death from colon cancer at the age of 41 broke a lot of strong hearts.
Sunil Gavaskar—the expectations of a billion people were about to be passed on to a rising star . . .
Sachin Tendulkar—just a boy, with it all before him. ‘Have faith in your talents and trust your instincts,’ he said.
Nicholas and Steve Waugh—Southampton 1989. Looks like I’ve got the upper hand . . .
Yup! A hundred against the Aussies. What a feeling.
England A at Victoria Falls, where I picked up cerebral malaria. During this tour Mike Atherton and Graeme Thorpe proved they had all the necessary qualities for Test match cricket.
The Judge—brave, strong and defiant. He remains a popular and much-loved figure.
Against England at the St John’s Recreation Ground in Antigua in April 2004, Brian Lara reclaimed his world record score ten years after first passing Garry Sobers’ unbeaten 365, which, incidentally, was made in Jamaica in 1958. Matthew Hayden had borrowed the record from Lara with a blistering 380 against Zimbabwe in Perth in 2003. But Lara was not to be denied and, with England once more the whipping boys, he went on to 400 this time. His unbridled joy is captured here.
Shane Warne. Few cricketers, if any, have made such an impact on the game. What a photograph—such power and presence.
Wasim Akram winning the 1992 World Cup for Pakistan. His ferociously competitive instinct matched his remarkable skills. The two balls with which he knocked over Allan Lamb and Chris Lewis (the latter shown here) are the stuff of legend.
Ian Healy stumping Michael Atherton at Headingley in 1993. ‘Stay down and move late, I kept telling myself,’ said Healy about standing up to the stumps for the spinners.
Andrew Flintoff consoles Brett Lee at Edgbaston in 2005. A wonderful moment at the end of a wonderful match.
The great Gilchrist, Straussed and Flintoffed at Trent Bridge, 2005. Interest around the UK was at fever pitch and this catch was replayed so often it became a part of everyone’s lives.
Michael Vaughan with the urn in the dressing room at the Oval—he says he was thinking, ‘Thank god for that!’
The toss in Brisbane at the start of the 2006–07 Ashes. Australia batted, Steve Harmison bowled the wide of all wides and Ricky Ponting set out his marker with a big, big hundred. There was a cruel beauty in the 5–0 revenge.
The King claims his 700th Test wicket at the MCG on Boxing Day, where else! This was another moment of magic to Andrew Strauss, who has been on the wrong end of a few. The photograph says it all.
Muttiah Muralitharan, Kumar Sangakkara and their national flag. Sri Lanka is a small island with a huge heart. These two mighty cricketers are in the pantheon of the game—one has 800 Test match wickets, the other 12,400 runs.
Something was funny—the day the Sydney Cricket Ground goes pink, 5 January 2010.
Our own Abbey Road. From left: George, Paul, Ringo and John—a rather more Fab Four than Tub, Binga, Heals and Nicko.
Michael Atherton and Mark Taylor: two highly regarded custodians of the game.
‘Out of my way, Nicko, there’s a demo to do here,’ says Michael Slater. We have plenty of laughs preparing to go on air each day.
With Geoffrey Boycott, both of us grumbling about another Vaughan tweet.
Constantia Uitsig in Cape Town. Jeff Thomson bowled here and Graeme Pollock batted. It was a special place, made more spe
cial by the landlords of the day, David and Marlene McCay.
The feisty and brilliant Virat Kohli, worth the admission money alone. Kohli is the most recent in the line of truly exceptional Indian batsmen—from Gavaskar, through Tendulkar to Kohli—whose batting evolved around the demands of the era in which they played.
Joe Root while making 256 against Pakistan at Old Trafford in July 2016. This superbly well-crafted innings makes me think he, too, will be one day be included among the elite.
Dale Steyn runs in . . . menace in motion.
A.B. de Villiers—genius in pink. A.B. leads a group of brilliant modern batsmen, each of whom is redefining movement, range and risk.
Two good men embrace: Mitchell Johnson and Ryan Harris, the architects of England’s fall from grace in the summer of 2013–14. Respected judges suggested they were as potent as Thomson and Lillee almost 40 years earlier.
Michael Clarke and Brendon McCullum walking out for the toss at the World Cup Final in 2015. Their words—at the service for Phillip Hughes and at the Cowdrey Lecture, respectively—gave cricket much to consider and to embrace.
The game goes back to work in Adelaide after the tragic loss of Phillip Hughes two weeks earlier. The 63 seconds of applause was heard around the world.
Martin Crowe at the MCG on the day of the World Cup final in late March 2015. It was the last time we saw him. The name lives on through his brother Jeff, who is now an international match referee. The Crowe family have given much of themselves to cricket; the game has been lucky to have them.
Since 2005, Chance to Shine has brought cricket to 3.5 million children who otherwise would not have played the game. ‘It’s not what kids can do for cricket but what cricket can do for kids,’ is the ethos around which we have raised millions of pounds to fund the programs that are taking cricket back into schools and communities. Few aspects of my life in the game have been more fulfilling.
When the last word of this book was written and the send key pressed, Leila and Kirsten breathed a sigh of relief and we took off to the sunshine in Greece, August 2016.
My father—able seaman in the Navy, 1947.
Mum and Dad at their wedding, June 1954.
Middlesex vs Southgate CC, 26 August 1951. Dad is second from the left. For a few years in the mid-1960s I would go every weekend to watch him in action and spend hour upon hour batting and bowling on the sidelines myself.
We spent most of our summer holidays at Seaview on the Isle of Wight playing beach cricket . . .
and most of the rest of the time playing cricket in the garden at home. Here, I am mowing and rolling the pitch for my homespun version of England vs Australia, 1968.
The real thing: 1968 at the Oval, a famous and favourite photograph. After volunteers from the crowd helped to dry the square, Derek Underwood did the rest. Every England fielder is around the bat as John Inverarity is given out lbw by umpire Charlie Elliott with six minutes left in the match.
Batting at my school, Bradfield. Not the best view of a beautiful ground.
Colin Ingleby-Mackenzie and Ted Dexter—two free spirits who captured the very essence of cricket and of life.
John Snow traps Ian Chappell lbw in the semifinal of the 1975 World Cup, a low-scoring match won by Australia after Gary Gilmour took 6 for 14 with his left-arm swing. Battles between the Chappells and Snow captivated me.
Peter Sainsbury leads out Hampshire against the Australians in 1975 at Southampton. I was there that day, on a school trip, and saw Barry Richards bat for the first time. The little cottage in the middle of the buildings behind the players is the dressing room in which I was to spend many happy summers.
September 1978—arriving in Australia for the first time, tired and embarrassingly overweight. Goodness knows what Dutchy thought when I entered the arrivals hall at Sydney Airport.
Tony Greig and Kerry Packer, two men who pushed cricket—kicking and screaming—into the commercial age. Twenty-six years later I was to work alongside Greig—and to discover there was more to Packer than this smile.
I was in the crowd at the WSC Supertest Final at the SCG, February 1979. Barry Richards made an unbeaten hundred to see the World XI home, and asked me into the dressing room for a drink afterwards. Imagine the thrill of that. It was when I first met Greigy.
Dennis Lillee—a primal force and magnificent sight. Basil D’Oliveira looks remarkably calm, but then he was.
Barry Richards, master.
Mark Nicholas, pupil.
Greg Chappell, elegant even in the pouring rain, at the Oval in 1977. Chappell finished unbeaten on 125 and Australia won in a thrilling finish at 8.15 in the evening.
Garry Sobers and Allan Knott—a perfect study in the art of the game.
Mike Procter taking 4 wickets in five balls during his raid on the 1977 Benson & Hedges quarterfinal at Southampton. We watched from inside the scoreboard, spellbound.
Graeme Pollock—disbelieving bowlers were left stranded by drives and pulls that destroyed their spirit.
A characteristic image of Gordon Greenidge: left knee up, hooking. How about Brian Close at short leg—no helmet and eye following the ball into the bleachers. What a man!
An amazing shot of Thommo about to fire the catapult. Rodney Marsh is a long, long way back and not a muscle has moved in David Gower’s body.
Ian Botham finishes the match at Edgbaston in 1981. ‘Hampshire were playing Kent at Canterbury and during tea we all watched the TV in the Kent dressing room. Things didn’t look good for England but Alan Knott said, “Don’t worry, the gorilla will take 5 for none and we’ll win by 20.” Botham took 5 for 1 and England won by 29.’ The wicketkeeper is Bob Taylor; he seems pleased!
The deck chairs create a false sense of peace. There was no peace against Imran Khan at Hove. This superb athlete and hugely charismatic man was a frightening opponent for a wannabe young cricketer.
A few fast bowlers might be thought of as the best ever. In the modern age of the game, Malcolm Marshall and Dennis Lillee are the two who tend to receive most votes. This dramatic picture of Maco gives a sense of energy, athleticism, strength and speed.
We were all delighted when Paul Terry was picked for England but, in his second Test at Old Trafford, Winston Davis broke his arm. Bravely, he came out to help Allan Lamb get to a hundred, which Lamby did. Paul kept out the first one from Joel Garner but not the second!
Writing about Viv Richards, John Arlott said, ‘He exerted a headlong mastery even more considerable than Bradman at the same age.’
The Smith brothers, Robin and Chris—it was a profound moment for Hampshire cricket when they were signed, a breath of the freshest air.
Batting in the Parks at Oxford with David Gower, soon after he came to Hampshire. It was fun, an almost surreal experience.
Benson & Hedges Cup winners, 1988. Hampshire had never made it to a Lord’s final. This was one of our proudest days.
With Maco and the Benson & Hedges Cup in 1992. He was a dear friend and unflinching supporter, whose death from colon cancer at the age of 41 broke a lot of strong hearts.
Sunil Gavaskar—the expectations of a billion people were about to be passed on to a rising star . . .
Sachin Tendulkar—just a boy, with it all before him. ‘Have faith in your talents and trust your instincts,’ he said.
Nicholas and Steve Waugh—Southampton 1989. Looks like I’ve got the upper hand . . .
Yup! A hundred against the Aussies. What a feeling.
England A at Victoria Falls, where I picked up cerebral malaria. During this tour Mike Atherton and Graeme Thorpe proved they had all the necessary qualities for Test match cricket.
The Judge—brave, strong and defiant. He remains a popular and much-loved figure.
Against England at the St John’s Recreation Ground in Antigua in April 2004, Brian Lara reclaimed his world record score ten years after first passing Garry Sobers’ unbeaten 365, which, incidentally, was made in Jamaica in 1958. Matthew Hayden had borrowed the reco
rd from Lara with a blistering 380 against Zimbabwe in Perth in 2003. But Lara was not to be denied and, with England once more the whipping boys, he went on to 400 this time. His unbridled joy is captured here.
Shane Warne. Few cricketers, if any, have made such an impact on the game. What a photograph—such power and presence.
Wasim Akram winning the 1992 World Cup for Pakistan. His ferociously competitive instinct matched his remarkable skills. The two balls with which he knocked over Allan Lamb and Chris Lewis (the latter shown here) are the stuff of legend.
Ian Healy stumping Michael Atherton at Headingley in 1993. ‘Stay down and move late, I kept telling myself,’ said Healy about standing up to the stumps for the spinners.
A Beautiful Game Page 38
