THERE HAVE BEEN many great Test players, but very few who merit the classification of being a colossus. I can think of only three: W. G. Grace, Sir Donald Bradman and I. T. Botham (Guy the Gorilla or Beefy to his friends). The dictionary defines a colossus as ‘more than life-size, a gigantic person standing astride over dominions’. W. G. was cricket in Victorian times and dominated the game throughout the country. Don Bradman brought a new concept into the art of accumulating runs and was head and shoulders above his contemporaries. And lastly there is Ian Botham, who for sixteen amazing years hit the world’s headlines, either with his remarkable performances on the field or his equally remarkable behaviour off it! Is there a common factor between the player and the man? One word comes immediately to mind – aggression. So let’s take the player first.
His figures in themselves clearly show him to be one of the greatest ever all-round cricketers, perhaps sharing the rostrum with Gary Sobers alone. Between 1977 and 1992 he played in 102 Tests, made 5,200 runs, took 383 wickets at 28.40 each, caught 120 catches and took 5 wickets in an innings 27 times, second only to Richard Hadlee (36). In comparison Gary Sobers played in 93 Tests, made 8,032 runs, took 235 wickets and caught 109 catches.
Like so many modern Test cricketers, his figures for his country are far better than those for his county. There are several reasons for this. Test bowlers, especially fast ones, cannot be expected to give continuously of their best whilst taking part in three one-day internationals and six Test matches. With fewer Tests and no one-day internationals bowlers like Trueman and Bedser did manage to take 100 wickets regularly for their county, but in those days they had the spur of big crowds. No great players – like ‘great’ actors – enjoy playing before an empty house. They are only fully inspired and give of their best in front of big crowds or audiences. It may be unfair on the counties but it is understandable.
Ian was quite simply the best hitter of a ball that I have ever seen. He was physically immensely strong, powerfully built in forearms, thighs, legs and bottom (important for a fast bowler). One of the main reasons for his success was that he hit the well-pitched-up ball straight, most of his sixes going in an arc from wide long-on to wide long-off. To anything short on or outside the off-stump he would strike a tremendous blow off the back foot through the covers. In addition to his enormous strength and wonderful eye he always used a heavy bat, well over 3 1b., which meant that he was never able to produce a genuine cut. This may have been his excuse for the occasional reverse sweep, which so shocked the older generation like myself!
Anything short of a length on the wicket or outside the leg-stump he hooked to square or long leg. He could never resist a challenge. If a bowler placed a man at deep square leg, then Ian would try to hit the ball over his head for six. It was his competitive spirit, combined with his aggression, that made him such enormous value to a side. He always tried to come out on top. I shall never forget him at Old Trafford in 1981. Dennis Lillee had just taken the new ball and bowled Ian three bouncers, which Ian promptly hooked off his eyebrows for sixes over long leg. This was perhaps the best exhibition of hitting I have ever seen in a Test, better even than his remarkable 149 not out in the Headingley Test a month earlier. He – as Wisden put it – ‘plundered’ 118 in 123 minutes with 6 sixes (a record in England and Australian Tests) and 13 fours. It is worth noting that he played himself in, his first 28 runs taking 70 minutes. He then went berserk and in only 53 minutes made the remaining 90 runs. This proved that he was not just a hitter. Not for nothing was he on the ground staff at Lord’s, where young boys are taught all the right techniques. This meant that he had a correct and sound defence, although there was always the matter of his temperament. He could never allow a bowler to dictate to him for too long. He just had to prove himself top dog.
It should be easy to assess a Test bowler who in sixteen years took 383 wickets. When he started he was a lively fast-medium, bounding in off a longish straight run with a high knee action. Once at the wicket he got sideways-on and, because of the pivot of his body, was able to bowl devastating out-swingers. In the early 1980s, however, his action gradually altered, owing largely to the development of his figure – though looking back it may also have been the beginning of his back trouble which handicapped him. He ran in more slowly, without the previous bound and energy, and bowled more square-on, but remarkably he continued to take wickets, quite often with bad balls (though a bad ball becomes a good ball if it takes a wicket!)
Even when he had lost some of his bounce, pace and swing, however, he continued to bowl short with two deep legs, and defy the batsman to hook him for six. Many fell for the trap and perished – none more so than Hilditch and Wood on the Australian tour here in 1985 – but to me it was rather sad, and a fall from the high standards of his early Test career.
One of his troubles was that he was such a competitor that he wanted to bowl all day, which he often seemed to do, especially when David Gower was captain. David found it difficult to prise the ball away from him, when he obviously wanted to take him off.
There was, however, one famous occasion when Ian actually did not want to bowl. It was during his golden year of 1981 in the fourth Test at Edgbaston, following England’s amazing win by 18 runs at Headingley. In their second innings Australia needed 151 runs to win. It was the fourth day of the Test – a glorious Sunday afternoon. It seemed plain sailing for Australia, who were 105 for 4, needing only 46 more runs when Border was out caught off his glove from a surprise lifter from Emburey.
Brearley had been about to bring Willis back, but suddenly changed his mind and in a moment of inspiration turned to Ian. He had only taken one wicket in the first innings and none so far in the second. He seemed tired and dispirited and suggested several alternatives to Brearley – anyone but himself. But the captain insisted and ‘ordered’ him to bowl. The result was unbelievable. Ian proceeded to take 5 wickets for 1 run in 28 deliveries and Australia were beaten by 29 runs. So the great all-rounder had performed yet another miracle.
To complete his all-rounder tag Ian was a magnificent and unique fielder at second slip. He caught many brilliant catches, standing about two yards in front of first slip. He saw the ball so quickly that he made catches off balls which would not have reached him had he been standing in the normal second-slip position alongside first slip. But I would not recommend mere mortals to copy him, nor to stand with both hands on the knees as he did, as the bowler ran up to bowl.
As if his all-round performances were not enough, Ian also captained England twelve times. He took over from Mike Brearley in 1980 for the first Test at Trent Bridge against the West Indies. The West Indies just won this match by two wickets and the other four were drawn. He then captained England in the drawn Centenary Test at Lord’s, followed by four Tests on the controversial West Indies tour, when the second Test was cancelled because the Guyanan government refused Robin Jackman an entry permit. The West Indies won the first two, and the other two were drawn. On top of all this Ian suffered a severe blow when Ken Barrington so sadly died at Bridgetown. So it was an unhappy tour, and a somewhat chastened Botham returned to captain England against Australia, who won the first Test at Trent Bridge. England managed to draw the second Test at Lord’s, where Ian suffered the embarrassment of making a pair. This was too much for him. The media had already been after his blood and he promptly resigned the captaincy just before, so it is said, Alec Bedser could tell him that he had been sacked.
So the story of his captaincy is not a happy one. Perhaps he was too young (twenty-four) and inexperienced. It was certainly asking a lot of such a vital all-rounder to have the extra strain and worry. He always protested that it did not affect his performance as a player, but it certainly did not help his batting. In twenty-one innings he only averaged 12.09, with 57 his top score, but he did take 34 wickets at 32.3 apiece, about four runs a wicket more expensive than his Test career figure. Finally, he had the bad luck to be captain against West Indies in nine of his twelve Tests. Funnily enough, however, I believe that if he had been asked to captain England again he would have leaped at the chance.
So much for the player. Now for the man – a complex character if ever there was one. Aggressive, courageous, loyal, compassionate and larger than life. Wherever he was, whether on the field, in the dressing room or at a party, his strong personality and mere physical presence outshone everyone else. He was able to influence some of his fellow players, not always for their good, and had a slightly warped sense of humour. You never stood near a swimming pool at an outdoor party if he was anywhere nearby. And you had to be prepared for leg-pulls and practical jokes, all done in a boisterous friendly way.
After a few drinks Ian could be a dangerous man to cross or argue with. His whole career was blighted with brawls and fights in bars, hotels, airports and even in aeroplanes. He was seldom contrite afterwards, and usually blamed the media for the publicity. The same applied to the many accusations of his drug-taking and sexual exploits. He finally admitted the former after suing various newspapers, but he would blandly stand in front of the television cameras and deny everything – always blaming the media.
And here one must be fair. I went on ten tours from 1958 to 1973 as a commentator and saw plenty of off-the-field activities by players which would have made news today, but my colleagues and I were there to report cricket, not personal conduct. Nowadays, however, the editors of the tabloids send special reporters to stalk and spy on the players in their off-duty hours. Hence the headlines. Whilst not excusing some of the excesses reported, I do deplore the gutter press paying large sums of money to anyone – especially beauty queens – prepared to reveal all.
It is something which Ian brought on himself, however, and he has had to learn to live with it. What he has needed all his life is strong but friendly leadership, and he has not often had it. Whenever he has, however, he is a different person. His friends have not always helped him and he has been tempted by large sums of money to do some extraordinary things, such as being groomed to become a Hollywood star.
There is of course another side to him – the family man who loves his wife Kathy and his three children, and likes nothing better than living in the country with them and his dog, and rough shooting. There’s also the fishing, where he overcomes his natural impatience and enjoys a long fight against the salmon. He will try anything so long as it offers a challenge, hence his learning to fly and his notoriously fast driving. And of course there’s the compassionate man who believes in action rather than words – as proved by his walk from John O’Groats to Land’s End and his journey over the Alps. Though often in pain and great discomfort he never gave up, and through his courage and determination made millions of pounds to help fight leukaemia.
Finally there’s his loyalty to his friends, as when he resigned from Somerset when he thought Joel Garner and his special friend Viv Richards had been unfairly treated. I am always a sucker for anyone who is nice to me, and Bothers has always been that, so I wish him well.
Few Test players have had as many gifts showered on them by the gods as David Gower: good looks, fair curly hair, charisma, charm, good manners, a sense of humour, intelligence. In addition he was athletic, six feet tall and moved like a gazelle with speed and lightness of foot.
As a batsman he had a wonderful eye, and a sense of timing which stroked the ball to the boundary. There was no brute force nor bludgeoning of the ball – everything he did was graceful and elegant. Tom Graveney is the nearest living batsman to compare with him. Of course, being a left-hander helped him. To my mind there is nothing to beat a left-handed off-drive through extra cover.
It all sounds too good to be true, and of course there were a few minuses. He was – rightly, I think – criticised for being too casual, careless and irresponsible. He earned himself the soubriquet of ‘laid-back’ both on and off the field, and he certainly was. This had both advantages and disadvantages. It meant that, outwardly at least, he remained calm and didn’t panic. He accepted umpires’ decisions without question and could ignore the pressures to which modern cricketers claim they are subjected.
This also gave him the appearance of being a non-fighter, however, and not seeming to care when disasters happened. It was the main criticism of his captaincy: an apparent air of laissez-faire, with insufficient attention paid to discipline, dedication and practice. He seemed to rely on everyone giving of their best, without the necessary encouragement or criticism. On his West Indies tour he gave the impression of preferring a day off on the beach or sailing, rather than a hard session at the nets. His natural talent may not have needed much net practice (Denis Compton was the same – he hated it), but lesser mortals do need continuous practice, to keep the eye in and to iron out various faults in technique which crop up from time to time. In this respect cricketers could take a lesson from the star golfers and tennis players – who never seem to stop practising.
It must be said on his behalf that in his first spell of twenty-six Tests as England’s captain he had the bad luck to play ten of them against the West Indies, and lost them all. But he did have a successful tour of India in 1985 when after losing the first Test, he managed the difficult feat on India’s slow pitches of fighting back and winning the series 2–1. And in the same summer he beat Australia 2–1 in England.
Like Norman Yardley, he may have been too nice and not ruthless enough ever to be a great captain. His handling of Ian Botham is a case in point. He often seemed to have difficulty in taking Ian off, even when he was bowling badly and a change was clearly needed. I won’t say that Ian refused to give the ball up, but it looked jolly like it!
David lost the England captaincy in unhappy circumstances after the Lord’s Test against India in 1986. They won by five wickets and, following immediately on the five defeats in the West Indies in the winter, his fate was sealed. Unlike Ian Botham, who, after the Lord’s Test against Australia in 1981, got in his resignation before he was sacked, David had the news of his sacking broken to him by Peter May after Mike Gatting had already been appointed in his stead. Sacking anyone is never easy but in the case of some past England captains, it does seem that some of them have been dismissed rather abruptly and unfairly. After seeing all the traumas and dramas of Mike Gatting’s brief captaincy, David must have been relieved that he was sacked when he was. But he had enjoyed the captaincy, and when he was offered it again, he accepted and was England captain for a further six Tests.
He undoubtedly played far too much cricket during the eighteen years after he first played for Leicestershire in 1975, including 117 Tests and goodness knows how many one-day internationals. He rapidly became stale and played out and wisely took the 1987–8 winter off, thus missing the World Cup and the tours of Pakistan and New Zealand. In truth it didn’t seem to do him much good, and in the summer of 1988 he had a run of poor scores for Leicestershire. Nor was his form against the West Indies up to his highest standards, and he was dropped for the fifth Test at the Oval. Even so, he did better than most of the others, with 211 runs at an average of 30.14. Only Gooch and Lamb did better. At least he had the satisfaction of reaching exactly 7,000 runs in 100 Tests, but he never really showed the determination, concentration and fighting qualities which were needed against the battering of West Indian fast bowlers.
From the moment, at the age of twenty-one, when he scored four runs to square leg against Pakistan at Edgbaston off his first ball in Test cricket, he was both a delight and a torture to watch. He was what I call a ‘touch’ player, relying on eye and footwork acting in perfect harmony. When they didn’t he seemed strangely vulnerable. In his early days he was a sucker to the ball on his legs. Time and time again he tickled it to a leg slip or short fine leg especially placed there, and sometimes to the wicket-keeper. At one time he appeared to have mastered this, though he occasionally half-drove a ball into the hands of mid-wicket.
In later years his footwork let him down, and by not moving his feet he tended to give catching practice to second or third slip. He sometimes appeared unable to resist playing a ball wide of the off-stump which he should have left alone. It was as if his bat was attracted like a magnet to the ball. His supporters despaired, and so did he, because no matter how he looked, he did care. On the other hand, when everything was coordinated he was still as good a batsman to watch as any other in the world. His off-drive was perfection, and he wafted away anything short to the boundary. He also had the great asset of being a good judge of a run and very fast between the wickets.
Some of what I have said may seem to be too critical, because after all to have made 7,000 runs in 100 Tests means an average of 70 for every Test, and that can’t be bad! His final total of 8,231 Test runs at an average of 44.25 puts him seventh in the list of the highest scoring Test batsmen, between Viv Richards and Geoff Boycott. So laid-back he may have been, but the figures show that it stood him and England in good stead. Furthermore, his eighteen Test hundreds contained several where he was prepared to get stuck in and battle on after passing his century – as scores of 215, 212, 173 not out, 166, 157 and 152 go to prove.
As a fielder his swiftness and ease of movement made him into a brilliant performer, especially in the covers. He used to have a fine arm, but then damaged his right shoulder so that he could not throw at all – a severe handicap. When he chased a ball to the boundary he often had to run back with it quickly or give it to someone else to throw.
Oh, yes. As a bowler he took one Test wicket against India at Kanpur in 1982 – and he wasn’t even captain! His analysis read: 1–0–1–1. He treasures that, especially as his victim was that fine all-rounder Kapil Dev.
David retired in 1992 at the early age of 35 after being rejected by the England selectors and left out of three consecutive tours. But he will have been less affected than most other first-class cricketers. He has so many interests. He loves travelling and could be described as a bon viveur, with an expert knowledge of wines and a special penchant for port. He likes music, is a keen photographer and at least for short periods enjoys lying on a beach in the sun. He is a naturally active person, so enjoys sailing and water-skiing.
His other love is winter sports, and each year he likes to toboggan down the famous Cresta Run at St Moritz. He has also been a member of a bobsleigh team. Both sports must be terrifying – on the Cresta Run especially, when you travel headfirst within inches of the icy track at speeds of 60 mph or more. One year I asked him how he thought that I would fare with my long nose. He replied that I would plough a deep furrow in front of me as I sped down the run. And apropos of that conversation, he was one of the easiest people to interview of all the Test cricketers. He never dodged a question, but fended the awkward one off with disarming wit and a smile.
One final thought. He was born in Tunbridge Wells and educated at King’s School, Canterbury. How Kent must have kicked themselves for allowing him to slip through their net and escape to Leicestershire. It was just like the man from Decca Records who turned down the Beatles!
You could spot him easily on the field. He looked smaller than his five feet nine inches and walked with tiny steps, bearded chin resting on his chest, eyes down, green cap pulled over his eyes. Even when captain he was an unobtrusive figure, and off the field quiet and modest. He could also be emotional, as proved by his reaction after England had beaten Australia at Brisbane on Gatting’s tour of 1986. He proved himself a good leader, however, and became not only the greatest accumulator of runs in cricket history, but also one of the most correct players with immense powers of concentration. A left-hander, batting usually at number four, sometimes at number five, time and again he rescued Australia from early disasters. He scored more Test fifties than any other batsman and his 27 hundreds put him third in the all-time list, behind only Bradman (29) and Gavaskar (34).
When Allan first came over here in 1980 for the Centenary Test, and then again in 1981, he was an unexciting player to watch – placing, nudging and cutting the ball rather than hitting it – but when he came as captain in 1985 he was completely transformed. He had a wonderful tour, scoring a hundred in each of his first four matches. He made more runs than any of his batsmen, both in the Tests where he averaged 66.33, and in all matches, with 1,355 runs at an average of 71.31.
But it was his change of style which was so noticeable. He had become a hitter of sixes and used his feet delightfully to drive the bowlers back over their heads. In his first hundred against Somerset there were 4 sixes, against Worcestershire 6 sixes, against MCC no sixes but 22 fours, and against Derbyshire 5 sixes. It was a complete transformation, and ever after he was a joy to watch. His defence was sound, and he was strong and sturdy and scored with drives, cuts and strokes off his legs.
Allan was a glutton for cricket, as proved by his spending his Australian winters over here playing for Essex. He was signed by them to replace Ken McEwan, and got off to a terrible start in his first season, not reaching 50 until the end of May. But then he had a purple patch, scoring 1,287 runs at an average of 51.48 before returning to Australia in the middle of August. He fitted splendidly into the Essex team – always a happy one. He didn’t act like a star Test player but was very much one of the boys, and when asked was helpful with his advice. He seemed to play cricket non-stop, but returned again in 1988 as keen as ever to undertake the hard grind of county cricket and scored another 1,393 runs, average 58.04.
He was an excellent fielder in the covers, mid-wicket or round the bat and set a new Test record of 156 catches. He was also a more than useful slow left-arm bowler, who could pick up the odd wicket and break up a stand. He formed an efficient partnership with Bobby Simpson as his manager, and together they shared the triumph of unexpectedly winning the World Cup in Pakistan and India in 1987.
Allan retired in 1994 after a record-breaking 156 Tests and a remarkable 93 Tests as Australian captain. He is top of the list of Test batsmen with 11,174 runs and an average of 50.56, ahead of Sunny Gavaskar in second place with 10,122 at an average of 51.12. He was not the most glamorous of cricketers, nor the most spectacular personality, but his sturdy character and outstanding skill as a batsman made him one of the most successful Test cricketers ever.