As Illingworth himself says, he had always recognised that there would come a time when it was right for him to relinquish the captaincy. To be summarily dismissed without any explanation, especially when he had apparently been given to understand that same morning by at least one selector that his reappointment would be automatic, must on any view rank as appalling treatment of someone who had been not only one of England’s most successful captains, but had frequently looked one of the best players in the side.
He had won 12 of his 30 Tests as captain, and lost just five, two of them to the rampaging, brilliant West Indies side that summer of 1973. One of his five losses had come when he was off the field injured, and another with just one fit seam bowler to call upon. In addition to being a front line bowler he had developed into a genuine all-rounder who averaged 28.62 with the bat, even if his heroics against the Rest of the World are left out of account.
He has a genuine claim to be considered as one of England’s greatest captains: his only fault on the field was a tendency to underbowl himself, and surely everyone is allowed one weakness. Off the field, he had a disconcerting tendency to give a straight answer to a straight question, not a trait that endeared him to the more political world of the cricket establishment. By any standards, he was shabbily treated by the selectors throughout his career as captain, and at no time more shabbily than in their ending of it.
He believes that his sacking was for political, not cricketing reasons. It was felt that he was getting his own way too often in selection meetings,104and surely his mutiny in Australia cannot have been forgotten or forgiven. It seems likely that ever since he returned victorious with the Ashes, there was an element within the establishment who wanted him gone and were awaiting their chance.
With their choice of Mike Denness, the establishment once again signalled their desire for a gentleman captain, one who would know how to behave and not step out of line; someone who was ‘one of us’, a fresh-faced young subaltern who would unquestioningly lead his platoon of chirpy working-class lads out of the trenches and towards the machine guns. In fact, Denness had enjoyed a relatively ordinary middle-class upbringing in Scotland, where he was as well known as a rugby player as he was a cricketer. He played at Ayr Academy alongside future Scotland captain Ian McLauchlan.
He had, however, been Colin Cowdrey’s protégé for many years, captaining Kent when Cowdrey was unavailable and taking over the job full-time after Kent won the Championship in 1970. Doubtless there were those who believed he might carry on the Cowdrey tradition of breezy bonhomie. He was in fact a very likeable man.
As described earlier, while he had achieved a few good individual knocks in 1973, he certainly was not in the sort of form to challenge seriously for a place in the Test side. He had been given various chances and, apart from briefly in Pakistan under Tony Lewis on a dead wicket, had not really impressed. In fairness, the same could be said of various other batsmen who would go on to become fixtures in the side, notably Fletcher and Amiss, but the fact that the selectors had persevered with them despite their disappointing performance and yet not with Denness speaks volumes as to how their relative talents were viewed.
The obvious choice to succeed Illingworth, and presumably his own preferred candidate given that they were old friends and teammates, would have been Boycott, though interestingly Christopher Martin-Jenkins, writing shortly afterwards,105 does not mention him at all, while giving a canter to less likely candidates such as Cowdrey, Brearley, Richard Gilliatt of Hampshire, and even Brian Close. It seems clear from this that there was already a prevalent view in establishment quarters that Boycott’s temperament ruled him out of contention, particularly as he was not even named as vice-captain (Greig was). The problem was that nobody ever had the consideration to take him quietly to one side and explain this.
Boycott had been captain of Yorkshire since 1971; the limitations to his performance of that role that his character presented had already started to become evident. Yet as the most experienced member of the team, and by far the best batsman of recent years, he must surely have felt mightily aggrieved to be overlooked. One feels that had Denness been an expert psychologist such as Brearley, Boycott’s feelings could somehow have been better managed, perhaps by making a great show of consulting him on the field and in the nets. As it was, Denness was just a very nice man, and understandably insecure in his new job, so England’s clumsy man-management once again came back to haunt them.
By some genius of planning, that winter’s tour was to the West Indies, and so England (or rather the MCC as England were still referred to when touring overseas) faced the prospect of immediately facing again the side which had just trounced them, but this time with home advantage reversed. One year hence, after what promised to be fairly gentle opposition over the summer from India and Pakistan, would come another stern challenge: defending the Ashes in Australia.
England picked four batsmen who could open the batting: Denness himself, Boycott, Amiss and what many felt to be a long-overdue recall for the rumbustious John Jameson. Fletcher and Hayes were the specialist middle order, Greig and Birkenshaw (presumably viewed as a like-for-like replacement for Illingworth) the all-rounders. Pocock and Underwood completed the spin department. Within the complement of seamers, there was no place for Snow. Arnold and Willis, who had both bowled well during the summer, were joined by Chris Old and new boy Mike Hendrick. Snow says that Denness wanted him both on this tour and on the following Ashes tour, and called him to say so, but then faced stiff opposition to the idea within the selectors.106
Having just been beaten in England by the West Indies, the omens did not look good. Boyce and Julien formed a lively new-ball attack, while Sobers remained a class left-arm seamer. As for Lance Gibbs, Ray Illingworth would say sardonically, ‘he was not exactly the world’s worst’.107 In fact, not until Harbhajan Singh and Muttiah Muralitharan many years later would any offspinner take more wickets in a career, and Gibbs held for quite a while the career record for any type of bowler (succeeding Fred Trueman and preceding Dennis Lillee).
The fact that Julien and Boyce, both tremendous late-order batsmen, batted at eight and nine in the first Test, speaks volumes for the batting strength of the side as well. Only in the as yet unresolved quest for a successful opening partner for Roy Fredericks could there be said to be the merest hint of a chink in the Caribbean armour.
Ironically, it was this apparent weakness which was to turn out to be the West Indies’ greatest and most unexpected strength.
Lawrence Rowe had exploded onto the Test scene in 1972 against New Zealand, a series that is more usually remembered for the exploits of another great batsman, Glenn Turner. Not content with scoring a century on Test debut, he turned it into a double century, and then followed this up with an unbeaten century in the next match. However, his form then fell away over the next three matches, and he was disappointing the following winter against Australia, so was not chosen for the 1973 tour of England. In addition to his poor form, there were also concerns about his health. Most inconveniently for a cricketer, he was found to have an allergy to grass, leading one of his teammates to tell Garry Sobers ‘if Lawrence sneezes, put the other side in, skipper’.
He was, however, recalled to the side for the first Test to open with Fredericks, and would play a significant role in the series.
For England, the tour was dominated by two figures: Dennis Amiss and Tony Greig. Amiss would truly come of age as a Test opener on this tour, scoring 663 runs at an average of nearly 83, with three centuries including an unbeaten 262 in Jamaica. Boycott, with 421 runs at an average of 47, would normally have expected to top the averages, but had to be content in the event with third place behind Amiss and Greig.
For Tony Greig, this was the series when all the youthful promise was fulfilled, and he showed the first glimpses of becoming just possibly one of the great all-rounders of all time. Not only did he come second in the batting averages ahead of Boycott, but he dominated the bowling as well, taking an amazing 28 wickets at an average of just under 23. To place these figures in context, this was as many wickets as the next four most successful England bowlers took between them. Interestingly, Greig had become captain of Sussex during the summer, bringing the troubled reign of Mike Griffith to an end, so it is surprising that he, like Boycott a county captain, was overlooked for the England captaincy: the England selectors were determined to have Denness, an appointment with which they had clearly been toying for some time.
For Denness the tour was not a success. He averaged less than 26, with a highest score of 67, though he was unlucky to be twice run out. Only Jameson, who also had a disappointing tour, playing in only two matches, fared worse, suffering the ignominy of ending below Bob Willis in the batting averages. Of his captaincy, Christopher Martin-Jenkins would later say:
… one felt that the confidence Denness had outwardly shown was in fact a kind of whistling in the dark. It appeared he was being carried along by events and, to a certain extent, by his team.108
In the first match at Trinidad, England were bowled out for 131 in their first innings, and were destined to lose by seven wickets despite a fighting double century opening partnership by Boycott and Amiss second time around. For the West Indies, the recalled Rowe failed twice with the bat.
The match was chiefly memorable for a controversial incident at the end of the second day. After the last ball of the day had been played, but before the umpire had called ‘over’ or ‘time’, Kallicharran started to walk towards the pavilion, and was promptly run out by Greig. Predictably, the crowd erupted. Garry Sobers, though he disapproved strongly of Greig’s actions, showed his sportsmanship by sitting with Greig in the England dressing room for two hours after play had ended and then escorting him personally through the crowd. Fortunately good sense prevailed and England withdrew their appeal overnight, allowing Kallicharran to resume his innings in the morning.
The second Test at Jamaica was a high-scoring draw, and included a century from Rowe in West Indies’ mammoth total of 583 (at one stage they were 400-3). Not to be outdone, Dennis Amiss then batted for nine and a half hours for 262 not out, very nearly carrying his bat (the match ended with England only nine wickets down). It was not a good match for bowlers and, perhaps in recognition of this, Kanhai achieved the captain’s grand slam by giving all ten fielders a bowl.
The third Test in Barbados was another high-scoring draw, featuring 302 from Lawrence Rowe, and centuries for Kallicharran, Greig and Fletcher. One event of significance occurred, however. Greig, who had never before tried doing so in a Test match, switched from fast-medium to bowling offspinners (though in fairness to the likes of Laker and Gibbs, they could perhaps more fairly be described as medium-pace offcutters). Whatever their most appropriate description, they were successful: Greig finished with six wickets. However, since West Indies declared at 598-8, and 164 of those runs were conceded by Greig, any ‘success’ was clearly relative.
The fourth match in Guyana was also a draw: a good batting wicket combining with the loss of about a day and a half ’s play to rain. Amiss and Greig made centuries for England; Fredericks just missed out on one for West Indies.
For the final Test, the tour came back to Trinidad with the West Indies one up.
In their first innings England fared better than they had in the first Test, managing to score 267, built around a dour six-hour 99 from Geoff Boycott. He was not a happy man when he was caught at the wicket off Bernard Julien. It did not feel enough, a feeling that was confirmed when Fredericks and Rowe put on over a hundred together for West Indies’ first wicket. Then Pocock had both Fredericks and Kallicharran out quickly, but Rowe and Lloyd carried on serenely, taking West Indies over 200 and close to England’s score.
That England had gone into the match with only one specialist fast bowler, Arnold, but three specialist spinners, was clear proof that they were expecting the wicket to turn, but so far Pocock, Birkenshaw and Underwood had enjoyed limited success. It was Greig, switching again to his offcutters, who made the vital breakthrough, having Lloyd caught at the wicket, and West Indies now collapsed from 224-3 to 305 all out, Greig taking every single remaining wicket, including Sobers for a duck. That Derek Underwood, a much more celebrated purveyor of much the same style of bowling, should finish wicketless, is perhaps the greatest testament to just how great Greig’s performance was that day. He finished with 8-86. Alan Knott, who had kept to Titmus and Illingworth, and batted against Gibbs, would later say that during this one individual game Greig was the greatest offspinner he ever saw in action.109
Though England were now behind on the first innings, Greig’s performance sent a surge of morale through the side. Suddenly it appeared as if anything might be possible. However, they were again disappointed by their performance when they batted. Once more Boycott was the cornerstone, achieving a well-deserved century, with dogged support from first Fletcher and then Knott. They could manage only 263, setting West Indies 226 to win.
This time Arnold bowled only a token couple of overs before giving way to an all-spin attack. Again Rowe and Fredericks looked relatively untroubled, but with the score on 63 Birkenshaw dismissed Rowe, and Kallicharran bagged a pair, edging Greig to Fletcher at slip. Then Fredericks was run out, a disaster for West Indies, and suddenly they were 65-3. Kanhai and Lloyd survived, but looked in constant trouble against Greig – he dismissed them both before long to leave West Indies 85-5. However, with Sobers at the wicket nothing was ever impossible.
It was a strangely muted Sobers, though, who seemed content to graft for victory, with Deryck Murray, an underrated batsman in this team of stars, employing similar tactics at the other end. Successful tactics too, bringing them a 50 partnership. Still only five wickets down, they were less than a hundred from England’s total.
Then Sobers misjudged a ball from Underwood and was bowled. Underwood had not had a successful tour, but had impressed with his perseverance, so it was fitting not only that he should make the key breakthrough, but that it should be the wicket of Sobers, his personal bogeyman. Always less comfortable bowling to left-handers, he took the wicket of the great man only twice. This time it was vital, almost certainly changing the outcome of the game.
Julien lasted only five balls before falling to Pocock, and now there was light at the end of the tunnel. Yet it would take England a nerve-jangling hundred minutes to take the remaining three wickets, with Keith Boyce batting immaculately and responsibly to take West Indies ever closer to their target. Once Murray fell to Greig, though, it was asking too much of Inshan Ali and Lance Gibbs to survive for long. Denness finally brought Arnold back to take the last wicket, and England had won by 26 runs to square the series. Greig had taken five wickets to add to his eight from the first innings.
Despite the batting heroics of Geoff Boycott, it was perhaps inevitable that the game should become known as ‘Greig’s match’. Only ten players had ever taken more wickets in a Test match for England – it was a performance that put him amongst the bowling greats such as Jim Laker, Sydney Barnes, Hedley Verity and Wilfred Rhodes.
On a much sadder note, the game also marked the end of perhaps the greatest Test career of all time: that of Garry Sobers, who had graced the cricketing stage since making his international debut at the age of just 17 in 1954. His record score of 365 not out would endure for 36 years until being beaten (twice) by Brian Lara. At the time of his retirement he also held the record for runs in a Test career, and even the likes of Hobbs, Tendulkar, Hutton, Ponting and Lara have failed to match his career batting average. Oh yes, and he took 235 Test wickets in three different bowling styles. It seems bathetic to add that the game also brought to a close the brief Test career of Jackie Birkenshaw.
Sadly, too, it marked the last time that England ever fielded a bowling attack including three specialist spinners (as an additional oddity, so did the West Indies). From now on the role of the spinner would decline steadily, as they became increasingly seen as defensive stock bowlers rather than attacking shock bowlers, and struggling to justify even one place in a side. It would take the likes of Warne, Kumble, Harbhajan and Muralitharan to prompt a glorious revival, but for the next decade and a half, all-seam attacks would gradually become the new model, at least outside the Indian subcontinent.
From the tour as a whole, the English selectors could take great comfort from the performances of Greig, Amiss, and Boycott. Yet the success of the former merely highlighted how disappointing both the middle-order batting and the spin bowling had been. Fletcher, Denness, Jameson and Hayes had managed only two scores of over 50 between them, Pocock, Birkenshaw and Underwood just 16 wickets. Without Snow, the fast bowling too had lacked penetration. Though Arnold had been steadiness personified, he had been much less effective when removed from English conditions.
For the final match itself, the selectors must have been supremely grateful. Had England lost it rather than won it, then it is unlikely that Denness could have survived as captain, and their choice would have been exposed as the non-cricketing decision that it clearly had been. Deprived of the captaincy, Greig or Boycott would still without question have commanded a place in the side as a player. Denness, equally without question, would not.
In the event, the selectors’ blushes were spared. Yet again, though, it is interesting to conjecture what might have been. Had Denness been discarded, there would have been only two possible candidates: Greig and Boycott. Cowdrey was now 41, had not captained Kent for the last three seasons, and his Test career had ended in 1971. Injury had forced the retirement of Tony Lewis. M.J.K. Smith had not been able to re-establish himself as a player in 1972. In fact, by far the best candidate would almost certainly still have been Ray Illingworth, who would go on playing county cricket until 1976, but to go back to him would have required impossible levels of honesty and contrition. Whoever had been chosen, Denness’s original selection would have been ruthlessly exploited by the press as a fiasco, and probably at least one of the selectors (presumably the chairman, Alec Bedser) would have felt compelled to resign.