Cricket My Way

Cricket My Way Ian Botham Jack Bannister Ian Botham’s approach to cricket is simple: keep fit, play hard, aim to win and, above all, enjoy the game. His advice on the skills is equally straightforward: attempt to master the basics … But never be afraid to try something new.In Cricket My Way, Ian elaborates on his philosophy, explaining just why a positive attitude to all matches can pay dividends and how much he, despite his reputation as a brilliant individualist, places a heavy reliance on the traditional skills of the game.Packed with examples from his own experiences, and illustrated with both photographs and diagrams, Ian’s book is a forceful affirmation of his view that cricket, played well, can be the most exciting game in the world. Copyright (#ulink_98eb436b-b8c1-5219-b8c0-8ecf42cefa1e) HarperNonFiction A division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk) First published in 1989 by William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd Reprinted 1989, 1990 © Newschoice Ltd and Ian Botham 1989 Photographs courtesy of Adrian Murrell/All-Sport and Patrick Eagar Illustrations by John Scorey A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Some images were not available for the electronic edition The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication Source ISBN: 9780002183153 Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2017 ISBN: 9780007513086 Version: 2017-01-18 Table of Contents Title Page (#u7ccf9a62-df71-533c-a76d-af0110ff6cef) Copyright (#u761986f5-12b9-5e00-82f6-3302bb59bf51) Preface (#u38c8a7ca-66ba-5c0e-ac64-9f0e624730f2) Part One: How I Play My Cricket (#u24f62736-2840-54ee-a6a3-e4fd3dec21ba) Part Two: Batting (#ua6a956fa-3edb-5cf5-8910-d1d86358f460) 1. Holding The Bat (#u5eccf5a1-5b4d-5c00-ad3b-fe329fd5b0f9) 2. The Start Of An Innings And How to Build It (#u4e3f7689-623d-5efd-be14-425d6a33ae77) 3. The Classic Shots (#u0d7abece-8909-587d-a74a-deebc6110544) 4. How I Play Slow Bowling (#litres_trial_promo) 5. Unorthodox Strokes (#litres_trial_promo) 6. Defensive Batting (#litres_trial_promo) Part Three: Bowling (#litres_trial_promo) 1. Bowling Techniques – An Introduction (#litres_trial_promo) 2. Held Placings (#litres_trial_promo) 3. Seam Bowling (#litres_trial_promo) 4. Slow Bowling (#litres_trial_promo) 5. Bowling to Left-Handers (#litres_trial_promo) Part Four: Fielding (#litres_trial_promo) 1. Approach (#litres_trial_promo) 2. Wicket-Keepers (#litres_trial_promo) Part Five: Captaincy (#litres_trial_promo) 1. Honesty (#litres_trial_promo) 2. Dealing with Pressure (#litres_trial_promo) 3. Dealing with Players (#litres_trial_promo) 4. One-Day Matches (#litres_trial_promo) Part Six: General Knowledge (#litres_trial_promo) 1. Why I Play The Game The Way I Do (#litres_trial_promo) 2. Final Message (#litres_trial_promo) Keep Reading (#litres_trial_promo) Index (#litres_trial_promo) About the Author (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) ‘Give me a challenge and I’ll take it on.’ In this instance against the Australians – perhaps my favourite opponents. Preface (#ulink_707c0db8-2f48-50bd-b36d-1db3f80478cf) The Headingley electronic scoreboard of 18 July 1981 flashed that historic bookmaking quotation of 500–1 against England beating Australia – and that is why I am writing this book. Not just to re-hash that famous England win, but to try to explain to all cricketers why they should never ever accept the result of any match as a foregone conclusion. Cricket is just not like that, and although that Test match provided a once-in-a-lifetime fairy story ending, I have played in plenty of other matches where a game has suddenly been tilted unexpectedly because one player had the guts to attack against all the odds. My approach to cricket is simple. Give me a challenge and I’ll take it on. If there’s no challenge, then I try to find one. I know my strengths – and weaknesses – and I have always set goals for myself from school right through to Test cricket. And when I’ve achieved something I set out to do, I immediately re-set the goalposts. That is the best way I know to sustain enthusiasm, and no matter at what level you play the game, there is so much more fun to be got out of cricket, if you give yourself something really demanding to aim at. Never mind if you fail. Part of the point of sport is that there are winners and losers. What you have to do is to convince yourself that you are going to be a winner more often than not, and you’ll be surprised at what sometimes happens. In this book I shall try to explain the correct technical approach to every part of the game – batting, bowling, fielding, wicketkeeping, captaincy – but my main message will be much more fundamental. The real basis of any cricketer’s success has got to be attitude, and I want to show how properly used aggression can help any player in the world. From my early schooldays at Milford Junior School and Bucklers Mead School, I decided I wanted to be the best, and so I had to think, talk and play like the best. I am naturally aggressive – in fact, my whole way of life is based on aggression, mostly I hope of the right sort. Like lots of kids, I wanted to bat and bowl so that I was always in the game, but most allrounders soon decide that is too much like hard work and so become batsmen who bowl, or the other way around. But by sticking at it, I gave myself the extra opportunity to be centre stage throughout a match with two strings to my bow. The first actual coaching I remember was from a teacher, Ken Hibbert, when I was about eight or nine. It was all to do with the grip, and after all – just like golf – if you get the grip right you’ve got chances. Get it wrong, and just forget it, because it will lead to a repetition of basic errors which will prevent any consistent success. Like every part of cricket, the best is the simplest. The bat was laid down in front of me, and I was told to pick it up as though I was going to chop a piece of wood. Instinctively my hands came together. That is, quite simply, the most important tip of all to any young batsman. It doesn’t really matter whether the hands are at the top or the bottom of the handle, as long as they are together. I soon found I could hit the ball hard and often, and even when I came into contact with my first county cricketers, nobody tried to alter my basics – simply because they were correct. When I was about 11, Dad captained the Westlands 2nd XI – after playing a lot for the first team – and I used to travel with him. When certain guys used to go to the Taunton nets, I went with them, and I well remember Kenny Palmer there. He used to spend a lot of time encouraging me in a net by dragging me off on my own and throwing a few balls to me. I think he had a soft spot for me, and in fact he still does. Remember the scene at Headingley against Pakistan in 1987 after their wicket-keeper Salim Youssuf claimed that ‘catch’. Kenny was at point and came in like the speed of light to defuse what could have been quite an incident. I like to think he did that because he knows I have always tried to play the game in the right way – but more of that later. So it was Dad, Ken Hibbert and Ken Palmer early on, and then Harry Sharpe, Tom Cartwright and Brian Close later, who were the main influences on my career. I still ring Tom up, because he taught me all the basics in bowling, when not many people saw anything in me in that department. For instance, when I went on to the Lord’s Ground Staff in 1972 at the age of 16, their attitude was that I was only a batsman. Harry Sharpe thought I might be a bowler, but Len Muncer didn’t. They had a lot of specialist bowlers so I was naturally regarded as a batsman who could bowl to members. My reaction was ‘I’ll show ’em.’ So when I went back to Somerset and Tom offered to show me a few things, I listened – another example of working out for yourself who and what is right for you. That is something nobody can teach you, but I shall try to explain certain of the basics which should never alter. As an example, Tom taught me how to swing the ball both ways, although I had always found the outswinger came quite naturally to me. That is my first tip. Decide on what you want, and then go for it. Don’t be put off by failure or criticism. I soon found out that, done properly, cricket is a simple game. I was lucky enough to start with because I found it natural to hold the bat and the ball correctly, and no matter what anyone else says, the real secret of my success is that I play the game in a much more orthodox way than most people realize. For instance, I hit mainly straight, with great emphasis on my leading left arm and hand. With the ball I have worked hard on my hand and wrist action, which is why I hit the seam so often and can also swing the ball. In the slips, I may look inattentive sometimes, and not everyone agrees with the way I stand with hands on knees, but I stand still, and concentrate on each ball as hard as I can. Once you know the basics, the rest is down to attitude. Create a belief in yourself, and stay true to it even through the bad spells that come to everyone. Cricket is a great leveller, but don’t let it push you into a routine mould where you suddenly forget to aim for the top. To sum up my own attitude, which I always try to carry into my batting and bowling, my philosophy is ‘Where can I score runs off the next ball?’ whereas too many batsmen – even county players – seem to think ‘How can I avoid being out to the next ball?’ And with bowling my first thought is ‘How can I take a wicket with this ball?’ compared with the reverse approach of ‘How can I best bowl a maiden?’ Many people see me as a spontaneous cricketer. I am not completely that, because that would make me just as much a blinkered cricketer as someone whose approach is too cautious. I never am blinkered; I am always trying to work out how best to attack the opposition. There is a huge difference between correct and incorrect techniques. There is just as big a difference between sensible, controlled aggression and the other sort. This book is to explain those differences. PART ONE HOW I PLAY MY CRICKET (#ulink_45b6b10e-fbc3-5ddb-8126-a1cf56530bb8) Happy days at Somerset during my 60-ball century v Worcester, at Westonsuper-Mare, 1986. People are always asking me if I ever had any coaching or instruction. Of course I did, but where I was lucky was that nobody ever tried to meddle with whatever came naturally to me. The main message of this book is to listen to all the advice offered to you, because it is well meaning, and then decide what will work for you. The first two real influences on me were my Dad, Les, and then a sports master called Ken Hibbert at Milford Junior School. Dad used to throw a few balls to me when I was only three or four, and as long as I played straight, he never attempted to force anything else on me. One example of how vital the proper advice can be came to me at the tender age of nine. I was playing against Westfield – another junior school in Yeovil – and I nailed a left-hander right in front of the stumps with a big inswinger to him. Because I didn’t know what leg before wicket, l.b.w., meant, I didn’t appeal. At the end of the over Ken Hibbert, who was umpiring, asked me: ‘Why didn’t you appeal?’ I said, ‘For what? He didn’t hit it and I didn’t bowl him.’ Of course I had heard about ‘l.b.w.’ but I simply didn’t have a clue what it meant. Ken only explained to me once, and from then on I got a packet of them – mostly with my away swinger which was my natural ball. Looking back on my progress on to the Somerset staff in 1973, I now realize that I was lucky enough to strike the right balance between going my own way, and absorbing the right sort of advice and coaching which was aimed at maximizing my natural talents, but not at the expense of stifling my natural aggressive approach with bat and ball. I have always tried to hit the ball hard, and I have always tried to take wickets. Now let me try to pass on the tips which have helped me most. All of them won’t suit every young cricketer, just as every piece of advice given me was not taken, but I guarantee that if I can get over my attacking philosophy, any cricketer can only benefit from what I have learned. For instance, I have tried to be such a complete allrounder that I could justify selection with either bat or ball. Trevor Bailey has gone on record as saying, ‘Botham is our most spectacular, dynamic and suecessful allrounder in Test cricket this century. His only serious rival is the immortal W. G. Grace from the previous one.’ Hooking Imran Khan, Fourth Test, England v Pakistan, Edgbaston, July 1987. If you are going to hit the ball, hit it hard. What a double billing that makes – ‘Grace & Botham’ – or should I insist on alphabetical order! I have often been criticized for attacking too much with the ball, but the plain truth is that I have always been prepared to gamble a few runs away for a wicket, whereas some bowlers simply do not have that attacking streak in their make-up. For instance, Mike Hendrick was a fine bowler, with all the attributes of line and length, stemming from a lovely high, sideways action. Yet in 23 Tests for England he never took five wickets in an innings. My bowling is always aimed at taking wickets, and I am always prepared to try a slower ball, or a bouncer. As well, of course, as using the width of the return crease to increase the batsman’s problems with a different angle of delivery. There are so many variations for a seam bowler to try, and he should never settle for containment, even on a flat pitch. That is, unless the state of the game calls for a ‘mean spell’. With the bat, when I attack – which is most of the time – I reckon the safest way is to play and hit straight. My margin of error is greater because every time a batsman plays with a crooked bat, he is reducing his area of contact with the ball. Again Trevor Bailey was kind enough to comment: ‘In my career, I encountered very few hitters, and nobody in the same class as Ian Botham. His straight back stroke, whether used for defence or offence, is mainly with the full face, while his feet are in the correct position and his downswing from the top of the full backs wing is copybook.’ I also remember Alan Smith, the England manager of the 1981 tour of the West Indies which I captained, telling me that I could play as straight as anyone in the game, and that was my real strength. Before I move on to the detail of technique, let me summarize my attitude, which I have had through every level of cricket I have played: I only want to win, and am prepared to gamble when others are not. Sometimes it comes off and my side wins a match from nowhere, and then I’m a hero in the public’s eye. But sometimes, my side loses a match we might have drawn, and then I get plenty of stick. I only want to win and hate losing. Coming second is nothing; but you have to lose sometime, and then comes the next test of character. Some dressing rooms become morgues, and I cannot understand that – not if everyone has done his best. I try to use defeat as a spur for the next game. My motto is to have a drink with the enemy and get on with life. I always wanted to be a winner. That is why my approach is based on an unshakable confidence in my own ability never to back off, and always to attack when there is the slightest chance of affecting the course of a match. Even as a kid, I would not compromise my approach, and because I have never accepted the idea of defeat, we pulled through. It sounds so obvious to say ‘never give up’, but so often the temptation is overwhelming to accept the cards dealt you. Resist it always, and you will be amazed at how much more you will enjoy the game. BOTHAM ON THE ATTACK A fair example of that is one of my first games in 1974 in the Benson and Hedges quarter-final on June 12th at Taunton against Hampshire. ‘What a glorious twelfth it turned out to be, even though it cost me a few broken teeth from an Andy Roberts bouncer. Needing 183, we were 113 for 8, with Roberts still to bowl seven overs. ‘The game was gone – nearly. I notched a 45 not out, we won the game, and the lesson is there for all to see.’ PART TWO BATTING (#ulink_1e02ca83-2b42-5050-99aa-bd997bf1be36) 1 HOLDING THE BAT (#ulink_f125d67a-bc54-55fa-b74d-aaa3c8c2125d) THE GRIP The most important part of batting is for a batsman to find out for himself the most comfortable way of holding the bat and standing at the crease. Grip, stance and back-lift are the key to everything, and if they are not mastered, the rest of batting becomes more and more difficult. There are one or two golden rules, but not half as many as the average coaches say. If they were right then everyone would hold the bat and stand at the crease in exactly the same way. But they don’t – just think for instance of the different stances of Peter Willey and Graham Gooch. Or Viv Richards and me, Mike Gatting and Allan Lamb, and so on. They have all worked out what suits them best, but although there are huge differences, certain basic details are common, and it is these I want to explain. The orthodox grip should always have both hands together on the handle. Any photographs of me batting, whether hitting the ball hard and high or, much more rarely, playing defensively, invariably show how close together both hands are. Ideally they should not be either at the very top or bottom of the handle, but if that makes you feel more comfortable, then don’t be put off by a coach telling you to move them up or down. If they stay together, there is a much better chance of them working together under the guiding control of the top hand, rather than letting the bottom hand take over. Obviously the higher up the handle the hands are, the wider the arc that is created for the bat to swing through, and some batsmen move to the top later in an innings, when they are trying to accelerate. Even if the hands are at the very bottom of the handle, although some power might be lost, there is a compensatory increase in control because the bat has effectively shortened. This is what golfers do when they sometimes ‘choke down’ on a particular club to tighten up control. Sticking with golf, the driver is the most difficult club in the bag to control, because it is the longest club; so always remember that the nearer the top the hands are, the greater will be the power factor – but at the expense of a little bit of control. So don’t hold it at the top, just because your particular hero does. I am pretty near the top – not quite all the way – simply because from the time I developed my first and only grip, that is what suited me best, and nobody tried to change me. Once Ken Hibbert found out I naturally got hold of the bat in a reasonably correct way, he left me alone; so as soon as a batsman finds out by trial and error what suits him best, he must stay with it. Of course, some good players do have their hands apart, but as with any successful orthodoxy, the batsman concerned succeeds in spite of, and not because of, any particular quirk. Derek Randall comes to mind. He built a fine career with a grip based on his hands being further apart than any other top player I can remember. It helped his great strength of cutting, because that stroke is entirely governed and controlled by the bottom hand. But he could still drive with the best of them because he had the ability to relax the bottom hand and let the top hand take over when he attacked on the front foot. Derek is a good example of how slavishly rigid coaching would have ruined a potential England player – what fun we would have missed! Sport is choc-full of performers who apparently defy all the rules, and yet still deliver the goods. Lee Trevino in golf and Alex Higgins in snooker apparently ignore the coaching manuals in much of what they do, but look at the results they have produced. Much of their set-up and preparation seems all wrong, but in spite of that, everything is right at the moment of impact through the ball; and cricket is no different. As long as the bat is accelerating straight through the line of the ball at impact, it really doesn’t matter how you arrive there. GRIPPING THE BAT Hands nearer the top of the bat handle – the bat is now longer, provinding greater swing, more power but less control. Hands nearer the blade of the bat – the bat is effectively shortened giving more control but slightly reduced power. Back of the top hand facing towards the extra cover area. Bottom hand – the ‘V’ between the forefinger and thumb is facing middle stump. 1 Try to follow the basic rules 2 Don’t be too rigid if things aren’t working out 3 Feel free to relax and find your own grip So to sum up the grip, do what I did. Lay a bat down on the ground, and just pick it up with hands together as though you are picking up an axe to chop wood. Remember that because the real power in wood-chopping as well as batting comes from both hands working together. The position of the top hand can vary a little, but as a general rule the back of the hand should face out towards extra cover. A little variation either way won’t hurt, but all sorts of problems arise if, for instance, the hand is turned round too much, with the back facing gully. As a check, the ‘V’ between forefinger and thumb should face back on to middle stump; whereas if the hand comes round further, it ends up facing fine leg, and it is almost impossible to drive off the front foot with that sort of set-up. If the top hand – the left for the right-hander and vice versa for the ‘caggies’ – is turned round too much the other way, then the back of the hand faces the bowler, and it is impossible to get all the fingers round the handle. Regarding the bottom hand, try and keep it as relaxed as possible, even if it means not wrapping all the fingers round the handle. I know a lot of players who just concentrate on holding the bat lightly, but firmly, with only the thumb and forefinger of the bottom hand on the grip. You need to be a real touch player to carry it that far. As a general rule, as long as the ‘V’ is in line with that of the top hand, you won’t go far wrong. If all four fingers are on the handle, and it feels right, don’t alter it, because the grip is the starting point of so much that is right or wrong in batting. I have spent more time on the top hand than the other one because although I don’t agree with much of the orthodox coaching teachings, I realize that cricket is mostly a sideways game, with the opposite hand and arm the governing influence. By that I mean, for the right-handed batsman, his top, leading left hand and arm is the most important one. Again there are plenty of top-class players with strong bottom grips – Allan Lamb comes to mind as one example. He has worked out what suits him best. Because he is shorter than me, he clearly cannot drive the same length deliveries as I can, and so that strong right hand has given him extra power for back foot strokes, like cutting and pulling. A good illustration of top hand ‘V’ between forefinger and thumb, facing offside. Derek Randall’s unorthodox grip with the separated hands. A good illustration of the value of a correct grip. The leading left arm and top hand have totally controlled the stroke and kept the blade open to the offside. The right hand has supplied the power at impact and nothing else. THE STANCE When I spent my two years on the Lord’s Ground Staff in 1972 and 1973, one of the coaches who never tried to alter my batting approach was Harry Sharpe. He would stand behind me in the nets, and would make the odd comment, but his general view was ‘nine times out of ten you hit it where you want – so why change?’ Exactly, and if more coaches were as far-sighted as Harry, then fewer promising cricketers would be spoiled by the interference with their natural ability that over-coaching produces. I’ve dealt with the grip, so now to the stance. Again I repeat, that what happens before the ball is bowled, settles much of what happens when the real action starts. Let me explain the advantages to me of my own stance, which is quite ‘spread’. By that I mean that my feet are further apart than the coaching manuals indicate is the ideal position. I stand that way because that is how I feel most comfortable, and that last word governs so much of my approach to batting, although it doesn’t appear too often in the official teaching books. Anybody who ever offered me any advice as a kid – including Dad, Ken Hibbert, Dave Burge and Ivor Twiss – all used to accompany a particular tip with ‘as long as you feel comfortable doing it’. THE STANCE The body is side on but with both eyes facing the bowler Slightly flexed legs but not a crouching position – try to ‘stand tall’. The view from square leg Feet close together do not provide enough option of movement, especially against faster bowlers. Feet slightly apart give better balance and allow for quicker movement onto the front foot. 1 Try to follow the basic guidelines. 2 In the end, do what feels best and works for you. Graham Gooch, England and Essex. An unusual stance, but the raised bat and straight legs work for him. A perfect position of head and level eyes. There is one technical advantage in a wider stance: it cuts down unnecessary movement. Most batting errors stem from incorrect movement of either feet or head, or both. For instance, if the feet are together against a really fast bowler the great majority of strokes will have to be off the back foot. So as well as valuable split seconds being lost in getting back on to the stumps, the whole body is on the move, and a ball coming at around 85 miles an hour over about 19 yards is difficult enough to keep out, even if you are in a correct position. The position and alignment of the feet are aimed at producing a sideways stance, with the batting crease the ideal dividing line between the feet. Standing ‘spread’, with the head still, cuts movement down to a minimum, as I soon worked out for myself – all because it felt comfortable. That magic word again. In my opinion, the big disadvantage of standing with feet too close together is that the batsman has little balance. For instance, if you stand with both feet together it won’t take a strong person to push you off balance with just a forefinger; but if you spread your feet you have a solid base to resist much more pressure. The other thing to remember is not to stand too rigid. If you do, all sorts of movements have to take place before contact is attempted. To illustrate the point, there is another valid comparison to make in golf, which I think has a lot in common with batting, although one game involves a moving ball and the other does not. All the top pros go through the same routine in setting up for each shot, and they have a key which releases the backswing. Jack Nicklaus, for instance, has that slight turn of the head to the right. There are players like Sam Torrance and Greg Norman who sometimes do not ground their club, because that makes their body too rigid. The same with batting. Flex the knees slightly and make sure the body weight is evenly distributed, so that you can either play forward or back, dependent upon the length of the ball. Try not to crouch; although there again there are plenty of successful batsmen in top cricket who don’t ‘stand tall’ at the crease, and it works for them, crouching is not ideal. A lot of nonsense is talked about a ‘two-eyed’ stance, which is supposed to mean that the batsman is too square on and therefore likely to play across the ball. The temptation in trying to concentrate on a perfect sideways stance is not to allow the head to look straight down the pitch at the bowler, and so the batsman finds himself really only looking with one and a half eyes. Both eyes should face the bowler, on a level keel with the head still. It sounds obvious, but batsmen forget that once the head moves, the rest of the body follows suit. To sum up, make sure the feet are spread wide enough to suit you, with the knees slightly bent. Make sure both eyes are watching the bowler, and keep that head still. That deals with everything, except the rather important matter of the position of the toe of the bat. It can either be grounded or not, and I change according to type of pitch conditions and the pace of the bowlers. Assuming that I can ground it, I always do so behind my right foot. Some batsmen ground the bat away from them, but that only increases the possibility of picking it up crookedly, so I would advise against that. The great Sir Donald Bradman apparently used to ground his bat between his feet. Again I would never tell a batsman to copy him because somehow the bat has to be taken outside the back foot, and that can only be done by taking it out towards gully. But, as the record books show, ‘The Don’ was hardly a failure, which only proves once again that no matter how peculiar some part of your technique may look, as long as it works for you, never change because some coach wants you to look more elegant. The face of the bat open to point, with the eyes facing the bowler and the head held still. This photo was taken as I was about to ‘step into’ a drive. Prolific run scorer Peter Willey here demonstrates everything that is wrong in a stance – but it has not prevented him playing many fine innings over the years. THE PICK-UP Now to the last part of the set-up before the ball arrives – the pick-up. Everything I have said so far is aimed at helping you to hold the bat properly and stand at the crease in the manner most likely to produce a straight, correct back-lift of the bat. Remember that although this vital part of your technique can be individualistic, if a bat is picked up incorrectly, it is probable it will also be presented to the ball wrongly. I tend to take the bat back towards slip, instead of the classical takeaway back over leg stump, and in this way I adopt the same technique as some West Indians. Notably Rohan Kanhai, who although he used to pick up towards gully invariably managed to drop inside from the top and come down in a beautifully straight line. Again, don’t worry if what works for you does not suit your coach, because the game is full of players who have made the most unlikely looking methods work successfully. I have already mentioned the stances of Peter Willey and Graham Gooch. Peter stands so front-on that both feet point straight down the pitch, his left shoulder faces square leg, and it seems impossible for him ever to score on the off side. But he shuffles round just as the ball is delivered, and consequently his pick-up is not so much off line as most people think. As for Graham Gooch, he stands sideways with the bat raised well above shoulder height, and although I think too much can go wrong from that static position, his career performances speak for themselves. Besides, both he and Peter Willey have fine records against the West Indies’ fast bowlers. Unless I am on a quick pitch and against a genuine fast bowler, I know that I tend to pick up towards the slips, and so I concentrate on whipping it into that Caribbean arc so that I bring the bat down straight. As in golf, the important thing is to present the club or the bat square and straight to the ball through the hitting area, that is before, during and after contact. One simple exercise will show you the perfect line of pick-up. Stand at the crease with the bat held normally in both hands. Then take away the bottom hand – right hand for right-handers – and clamp it around the other elbow. Bend that elbow 90 degrees, and the bat will be taken back towards your stumps to give you the proper line of back-lift. Remember that most players bring the bat down on the same line they take it up on, so try to cut down on the margin of error by developing a length of back-lift you can keep under control. Don’t take it back the same distance all the time, because you should vary it according to conditions. Particularly against the faster bowlers on grassy pitches – Barbados, for instance – I try to play with as little movement as possible when I first go in, and so I reduce the back-lift. Sometimes, although I don’t go as far as Graham Gooch, I will stand waiting with the bat a couple of feet off the ground. Against the slow bowlers, you can let out a notch or two because presumably you will be looking to stroke the ball around more in front of the wicket than is possible against the quicks. Whatever your pick-up, it will work so much better if the top hand is in complete control of the bat at the beginning, and stays in charge for as long as possible during the stroke. So many things in the stance and pick-up are inter-related, but all are important, and none more so than the head remaining still. It is a fundamental basic in all sports to keep the head still, and yet most players forget the elementary point that once the head moves, other body movements are inevitably going to follow. A good spread of the feet, ensuring proper balance, eyes on the ball and the back-lift in progress. The best players I’ve ever seen – Allan Border, Barry Richards and Viv – keep their heads rocklike while picking up their bats and playing the ball. The best illustration I can give is how the best use is gained from a pair of binoculars. You fix them on the target and keep as still as possible, otherwise any movement distorts the image. It is exactly the same with batting, particularly against the fast bowlers when there is just no time to remedy any basic errors made in grip, stance or back-lift. The other thing about the position of the head is to ensure that both eyes are looking on a level plane down the pitch. I have already explained that if you don’t stand sideways, the pick-up line is almost bound to go wrong. Because it is so vital that both eyes are used properly against the faster bowlers, perhaps I’ll get a little square on without disturbing the sideways structure too much. In any case, the back-lift will be shorter under those circumstances, and so there is less to go wrong. BATS AND PROTECTIVE GEAR Just to round off my advice on the best ways of preparing for the business part of the game – when you actually have to play the ball – let me explain about the weight of bat I use and the different forms of protective gear that are now available. Until about 1980, I used a normal weight bat, around two and a half pounds; but after trying a heavier one as an experiment, I immediately loved it and those made for me now by the Worcestershire Chairman, Duncan Fearnley, are nearly three pounds in weight. But again, everyone should find out for themselves what is most suitable. As a general rule, most young players start off with a bat that is too heavy for them, because they are given their first bat when they are growing up. Only try the heavy bats, therefore, when you have more or less finished your physical development. Undoubtedly, more players nowadays favour the bigger bats, and cricket has followed golf and tennis in this respect. Racquets now have bigger heads for more power, and golf clubs are designed to hit the ball further. In the same way the bigger cricket bat is so much more destructive than the old-fashioned lightweight ones. It is not the weight of the bat which is important: it is how balanced the pick-up is which settles which is the better bat, and sometimes I tinker around with one or two extra rubber grips to achieve a better balance. Usually I have a couple of grips on, but although it can be one, or even on occasions three, it is very rare nowadays that I have to change one of Duncan’s bats. He usually presents them to me at about an ounce or so under three pounds, and then if necessary I vary the number of grips. At the start of an innings on a quick pitch, I will usually take out the lighter bat when I am not looking to play too many shots; so don’t be afraid to change, even in the middle of an innings. Some players develop superstitions about their cricket in general and their bats in particular, but I don’t go along with that. I always believe that I can make my own luck. So if I find out any of the opposition are superstitious, I try all the harder to convince them how unlucky they are. Regarding protective equipment, I only use either a helmet or a forearm guard if the pitch is dodgy, because in normal conditions I reckon I should never get hit if I keep both eyes on the ball. But on a pitch like, for instance, Headingley in 1987 in the Test match we lost to Pakistan, I did use an arm guard and a helmet because of the variable bounce – but that is the exception for me. It is not because I share the view that a player’s reactions are subconsciously slower if he is wearing a helmet, because the risk of serious injury is reduced. I suppose my dislike of using that sort of visible protection is the same as my good friend Viv Richards, who never ever wears a helmet. It is another way of saying to the bowler that he is not that quick or dangerous, and I will never ignore any opportunity to score a psychological point. SUMMARY To sum up my tips on grip, stance and back-lift – anything within reason will suffice, providing that whatever you do that is different from the normal methods, is not detrimental to your batting. If things start to go wrong, and a string of low scores follow, go right back and re-examine your basics. Often, a tiny little adjustment is all that is necessary, and sometimes the most unlikely people can spot it for you. All that I have explained so far is to show how simple the game is, once a repetitive method has been found. Plenty of power from my Duncan Fearnley custom manufactured bat. SECRETS OF BATTING I have repeatedly stressed so far the importance of cutting out unnecessary movement, and the time to concentrate hardest on standing absolutely still is when the ball is about to be delivered. Some players never really think about when to start picking the bat up. They do it at the same moment in the bowler’s delivery stride, whether it is a fast bowler or a spinner. Then they wonder why they are halfway through a stroke – only for the wicket-keeper to be tossing the ball back to the fast bowler. It is only common sense to quicken the pickup against the paceman, and to wait just that bit longer against a slow bowler. The vital difference between the average player and the good player, and the good player and the great batsman, is the apparent extra time the better players have to play their strokes. I will explain why this is not quite true, just as the theory that the great players play the ball later than other batsmen is only partly correct. Both differences can be explained quite simply. That extra available time and the lateness of selection of stroke come because players like Viv Richards and Allan Border avoid any significant first movement of the feet when they start to pick the bat up. If ever there is one real secret of batting, that is it. Even they cannot stand absolutely stock still, but whatever first movement either player makes is so small that it does not cut down his range of options to the same degree as with ordinary batsmen. The sort of movement which is too early and too much is at the root of most batting faults, and I strongly advise the following check exercise being carried out regularly by all batsmen, no matter at what level they play the game. At the start of a net session, ask the bowlers to help you by, without any warning, running in to bowl to you as normal but, instead of releasing the ball, to go right through with their usual action without letting the ball go. Just look at what you have done with your feet, and all will be revealed. Most English players tend to move their front foot forward as they pick the bat up just before the moment of delivery. This is because of our slower pitches. Conversely, the first movement of overseas cricketers tends to be either back or across their crease. This is because of the quicker nature of their pitches, and the extra bounce bowlers can obtain from the additional pace. Next time you watch a big game, try to spot the first foot movement of the better players, and you will soon find that most English right-handers will have committed themselves to the front foot, by moving that left one at least 18 inches. The disadvantage is obvious because they have reduced by the same distance how far on the back foot they can go, should the bowler decide the time is right to let a short one go. This is another reason why we always struggle against the really fast bowlers, because they can only be coped with satisfactorily on the back foot. English cricket, because of its generally paceless pitches, does not produce many effective back foot players, and it never has. The number of batsmen in the last 20 years who could whack it off the back foot, are few and far between. Just think of our best batsmen in that time: Colin Cowdrey, Peter May, Tom Graveney, Kenny Barrington, Geoff Boycott, Graham Gooch, David Gower and so on. Of course, they were good enough batsmen to cope with the short ball, and even on occasions score runs off the back foot against the real quicks. But most of them were much more fluent when driving, because that is how they learned their cricket. The obvious exception was Ted Dexter. I didn’t see much of him, but I am told that he stood stiller than most, and was equally happy to hook and cut, as well as drive. David Gower is another, although it must help that he is left-handed, and therefore playing to a different line. Graham Gooch can also pull and cut with tremendous authority at times, but generally he looks to play forward if he can. So try that test – have a look at where you have committed yourself to, and remember you’ve done that before you have any idea what length delivery you are trying to deal with. Ted Dexter in full flow with the head still and the eyes following the ball. The worst sort of movement with the back foot is away towards leg slip, because that destroys any real chances of getting into line against the quicker bowlers. I will deal with these first movements again when I get on to bowling, but just remember that any thinking bowler will soon spot that first movement, and from that he can quickly sort out a player’s strengths and weaknesses. The virtues of standing as still as possible are therefore many: you give yourself the chance to move forward or back; and you will cut out that forward, half-cock defensive push at a short of a length delivery, which is the only available option if you have got on to the front foot so early. Also by delaying your footwork, you will be more able to establish the length and play a proper stroke with authority. It is not just coincidence that the batsmen who are most difficult to contain are those who can pull and cut as well as drive. Another big plus is that the rhythm of the pick-up is not disturbed, and providing the top hand stays in control as the bat is brought into the hitting area, any sudden late movement or lift can be better countered if you are not too committed. I realize that against real pace, everything has to be speeded up, and I admit that I then concentrate on a first movement back and across the crease. I do this because I know that not much is going to be pitched up to me, and anyway against quality fast bowling, every batsman needs a period of adjustment to the pace and lift at the start of his innings. But that one exception only underlines the golden rule of batting. Stand as still as possible for as long as possible. Put that last sentence into constant practice, and many, many more problems will be solved than created. I set out in this book to accomplish two things. I want to explain my attitude and approach to cricket, and hope that I can open up a new area of the game to cricketers whose approach is too restricted. I want them to take the blinkers off, and although a bit of eye strain might follow at first, it won’t be long before they discover just how rewarding and enjoyable the game can be. At first it might be like that first dive into the deep end. Plenty of apprehension to begin with, but that is soon replaced by enjoyment born out of sheer exhilaration. The other aim is to try to simplify a lot of the sort of coaching advice which has been handed down from generation to generation, without proper thought or explanation. A good illustration of this is the different guards batsmen take, and the importance of choosing the right one. TAKING GUARD Like the points of preparation I have already gone through, I don’t think that the average coach goes into enough detail about the crucial parts of batting, including which guard should be adopted and why. For instance, a leg stump guard opens up the off side, while the further over a batsman stands – i.e. middle and leg or middle – the more deliveries he will have to play straight back to the bowler or on the leg side. I now take leg stump, although I used to take ‘two leg’ until I found I was getting out l.b.w. a lot. Even then the penny never dropped, until my late dear friend and coach, Kenny Barrington, suggested I might like to try a change. Don’t just pick a guard without thinking about it. Say: ‘Which area do I like to play to most of all?’ As a simple guideline, top hand right-handed players should take one leg, while those players with a strong bottom hand should stand further over towards off stump. Colin Cowdrey once took off stump in the West Indies in 1959–60 against Wes Hall & Co., simply to get himself in line, and it worked for him. This sort of willingness to adjust to change again proves the value of a batsman working things out for himself, rather than automatically accepting the word of the coach who is only going by the book. Knowing where your stumps are is very important. Shots like this become easier when you can quickly judge the line of the ball. THE GUARD Off side opened up more – fewer shots need to be played to leg. Leg stump Middle or middle-and-leg Need to play more shots ‘round the corner’ which may increase risk of being out lbw. 1 Make your mark clearly. 2 Fix in your mind where your stumps are. Sometimes, the ‘book’ needs re-writing, and nobody should be afraid of making up his or her own mind, no matter what the so-called experts say. Another thing to remember, is that just because two batsmen take the same guard, does not mean that they stand in the same place. I always ground my bat behind my right foot, which means I am virtually standing on the line of leg stump. As I have explained, that gives me extra width to play to my off side strength, but other players toe their bat in some way from their foot. I don’t like that because they have to move more and that is not a good thing. The whole point of a guard is to help you know where your off stump is, so that you do not play unnecessary defensive strokes at wide balls. After all, if a ball is not going to hit the stumps, what are you defending? And of course, the wider the ball, the less of the face of the bat you are able to put to it, so either go for an attacking stroke, or leave it. The other common fault which springs from grounding the bat away from the back foot, is that it actively encourages a crooked back-lift. Until I started to explain the basics of preparing to face the music, I never realized how much there is to get right, and I suppose I have been lucky to find so much of what I have advised came to me naturally, without me having to think too much about it. Now I am as anxious as anyone to get the innings under way, so here we go. PLAY TO YOUR STRENGTHS A guard should enable a batsman to play to his strengths, and just how well this works for me can best be seen by looking at a few run charts of my big and best innings. ‘The one that reveals all is of my 118 at Old Trafford against the Australians in 1981. That innings was immeasurably a better knock than the earlier 149 at Headingley, because that was a death or glory slog in an apparently lost cause, but the Manchester innings was one I built so carefully that I only managed five singles in my first 33 deliveries. ‘I then cut loose against the second new ball with 47 out of 52 off 26 deliveries, and did not take much longer to get to three figures. ‘It seemed, even to me, that I had smacked the Aussies all over Old Trafford, but in fact only 18 out of my 118 came in front of the wicket on the leg side. There were two sixes, a four and two singles in that one 90-degree area. Run charts can be valuable, but never let them affect your natural style.’ 2 THE START OF AN INNINGS AND HOW TO BUILD IT (#ulink_c3eddf98-900a-52c5-b6fe-fd897474f9e7) MORE NORMAL APPROACHES So let me concentrate on more normal innings, and whether you play like me or Geoff Boycott, there are certain common factors to be taken into account. Let me deal firstly with my own approach. It never bothers me how long I stay on nought after I have come in to bat. Some batsmen are looking to get off the mark straight away with a mid-wicket push for a single. I would rather concentrate for a few deliveries at least, to play ‘in the V’ as we call it – that is the area between mid on and mid off. Viv Richards is one who loves to slide his foot forward and push a run or two through his favourite mid-wicket area, but you cannot take him as an example of too much because he is a genius. I could not do what he does and he won’t try too much of what I do. We both play to our respective strengths, and that is what coaches should encourage. When I start batting, the bowler is in between me and what I want to do, so I try to work out the best way of dominating him. Some bowlers cannot take this. They worry, try to change their natural method, and the argument is settled after a few deliveries. Other more resilient cricketers are tougher nuts to crack. John Emburey is as good an example of this as I can quote, because he has such an unshakable faith in his own ability and method of bowling that he never gets rattled if he gets smashed around. Not that that happens too often, which is why his captains pay him the supreme compliment of entrusting the closing overs of a one-day match to him. Somehow, I want to introduce my natural aggression into proceedings as soon possible. I keep coming back to aggression, because it is such an integral part of my game and approach, but I recognize that it takes different forms with different players. For instance, many people regarded Geoff Boycott as a run machine who ground his runs out, rather than give rein to a lot of the flair I know he had. Flair which only occasionally in one-day cricket used to be unwrapped, but I knew was always there, having travelled the world with him. I have watched him in the nets countless times, where he has played all the shots, only to go in and revert to type. I used to think that was illogical, but he would argue it was done to get rid of his aggression before he started his innings, because he was then more likely to produce the sort of big innings needed in Test cricket. I thought that a wrong approach, but it made him such a great run scorer, who can argue? Whatever I have been accused of, when on the surface I have got out to a silly, irresponsible shot, nobody can ever say that I have been short of self-belief. I know that on my day I can destroy an attack, and turn a match right round in a short space of time. I think I am helped by batting at five or six, because the match situation has started to develop by then, and much of what I do can be viewed in that context, compared with those top order players who try to shape events. They shape, and sometimes I try to change – there is the big difference. But I can only change things because I believe in myself, whereas there are quite a few cricketers who sell themselves short, because they do not fully believe in themselves. GOING FOR IT? ‘It is only on rare occasions that I feel free to come in and go for it from the first ball. Edgbaston in 1985 against Australia was one of those, and I will never forget my first ball six off Craig McDermott. ‘At 572 for 4, we were not exactly struggling, and Mike Gatting hardly needed to tell me to get on with it. But that situation was just as much a one-off as the one at Headingley four years earlier when we were 133 for 7 in the second innings, still 94 runs behind Australia. ’ It’s all a matter of courage and self-belief, with a touch of arrogance thrown in. My aggression does not come from just going in to wallop the bowling. Look back and see how many of my big scores have come when the side has been in trouble, and my initial approach had to be different. Unless I receive some rubbish bowling to start with, I play normally for a bit longer than usual before I set out to destroy. Then I sort out their most dangerous bowler, and attack him sensibly to see if I can get him off. In those circumstances, a captain often panics and whips the bowler off, which is wrong on two counts. He just might get me out, and anyway he is still posing the same threat to my partners. Mike Gatting did well in the 1987 World Cup on at least two occasions in this regard. Both times Eddie Hemmings was the bowler, and in matches against West Indies and India, Viv Richards and Kapil Dev had smashed him for boundaries. But Gatting kept faith, and so did Eddie, and he got both men out with well-flighted deliveries, when England were facing defeat in matches which they went on unexpectedly to win. Such a big part of the game is who can dominate who, and no batsmen should ever settle for just going through the motions when they bat. Things rarely happen – they have to be made to, with so much depending on the match situation. If the runs are not coming, don’t get bogged down – push and sprint a few singles. More likely than not, the fielders will come in and then there is a better chance of hitting a four. A POSITIVE ATTITUDE What seems to inhibit a lot of players is if their first attacking stroke costs them their wicket. That never bothers me, because I am never afraid of the consequences if things go wrong. Fear has no part to play in my game. I’ve seen too many players start off in a team, either at county or Test level, with the sole thought of surviving to stay in the side. Attacking the bowling like this can unsettle the opposition and panic their captain into rash decisions. If it causes good bowlers to be taken off it can benefit others in your team as well as yourself. My attitude is different. I go out there and tell myself, ‘I’ve got here because of the way I play – so why change it?’ Another thing, once some batsmen get on top and start the roller coaster going, it is just as though they are afraid of how fast they might go, and they jump off. I remember sitting with Viv on the balcony at Taunton a few years ago, watching our Somerset team’s approach to a fairly easy Sunday League victory target of around four runs per over. Once a four had been hit, even if the same delivery came along next ball, a different stroke was played. The attitude was ‘We’ve got our four this over, why take chances?’ A DIFFICULT INNINGS ‘Occasionally, circumstances call for the elimination of any risk, and although I find this sort of innings the hardest of all to play, I still bring all my aggression to bear, as the best way of disciplining myself Like, for example, my innings on the last day of the Oval Test against Pakistan in 1987, when we were totally up against it, and I knew I had to stay there with Mike Gatting all day. Runs did not matter – it was just a matter of survival against their attack under the pressure of having fielders all round the bat all day, after they got that massive first innings total of 708. ‘The only hope I had was to wind myself up, so that I could impose myself on them, even though it would be in a different way from usual. I said to myself: “Right, cut out all the chances of getting out, and don’t play a shot.” ‘It was one of the most untypical innings of my life, but I actually enjoyed it more and more as the day wore on because the Pakistan side was getting increasingly frustrated with me. I concentrated on leaving alone as many balls as possible, and those I had to play, I did with bat and pad locked together – and it worked like a charm. ‘We saved the game, thanks to that 150 from Mike at the other end, which shows what can be done with the right approach. In its own way I am just as proud of that effort – my slowest ever Test 50 – as I am of some of the blockbusters.’ That is nonsense. Firstly it breaks your own batting rhythm; and secondly it restores some of the bowler’s confidence. Not to mention helping to ruin your own side’s momentum. You only have to notice how many one-day matches change right around when a side suddenly backs off when they are on top. Too many batsmen think that if they try too many strokes and get out, they will be accused of a lack of responsibility. Part of my 90 for Somerset v Middlesex, Nat West semi-final, August 1983, when I played out a last-over maiden, when the scores were level, to win the match. That is negative thinking, and you’ll never win anything that way. I try to keep all my ‘vibes’ positive, and if I can finish the match well within the prescribed number of overs, that to me is the best way of staying on top once you have the edge. An example of that was our Sunday League match at Hereford in 1987 against Surrey, when Worcestershire won the title. Tim Curtis and I went in to bat on the slowest, lowest pitch of the season, after Surrey had managed 154, with no fewer than 97 singles. That illustrates just how difficult it was to get the ball away, and I know the Surrey lads fancied their chances if they could contain us early on. They did that, because although we put on 130, the 50 did not come up until the 15th over. Then I wound up at the slow bowlers and managed a couple of sixes, so now we were well on top and apparently cruising. There were plenty of overs left, and all ten wickets were intact, but I knew that if we just pushed around, things could so easily go wrong if we lost a couple of wickets, because nobody in the match had managed to come in and smash it around right from the start. So I kept going, but even when I got out for 80, Graeme Hick came in with the same sort of positive approach. We wanted 25 off 16 overs, but he hammered 19 in no time, and finished things off with a six to win us the match by nine wickets with 12.2 overs to spare. We might well have won the match the other way, but that is never how I look at things. Once I have pressed the accelerator, and I knock a few of the opposition over, I want full throttle to wipe them all out. If a side ever gets back into a match I have started to rush them out of, it is never because I have eased down in order to avoid unnecessary risks. I am not trying to suggest that everyone should bat the way I do, because I know they couldn’t. Some cricketers are not as strong as me. Neither can they hit as straight, nor as hard. But they have their own strengths and they must play to them, spurred on by the right sort of positive attitude. Graeme Hick, my partner in some classic innings, playing his favourite square drive off the front foot. I am always on to my team mates about developing and sustaining a positive attitude. From the beginning of every match, I am trying to win; whereas some captains go the other way and aim firstly to set up a position from where they cannot lose, before they turn their attention to winning. Sometimes in Test cricket that has to be the way to play, but five-day Test cricket is a unique form of the game, and not too many valid tactical comparisons can be made with other formats. Certainly I can think of very few three or four day championship matches where that sort of approach accomplishes anything. Fewer matches are won in the long run, and also the entertainment factor is ignored. It is all very well county pros pleading a lack of understanding from spectators of the finer points of the game, and I know that it is mostly members and not the paying public who turn up in the week. But without those members, even in these days of wide sponsorship, the game would suffer a lot. Their entertainment must always be considered. Although the three-day crowds at New Road in the first season Graham Dilley and I had with Worcestershire in 1987 were nothing special, there was a huge increase in the membership, and I hope they agree we all gave them good value. I know how much importance I attach to being entertained whenever I watch sport – be it golf, or football, or even cricket. That is one of the reasons why I always try to give value to the watchers. There are so many different ways of building an innings. Geoff Boycott always aimed at ten runs a time, and in the first place never widened his horizon beyond that. I could not do that, and usually play it as I feel. For me, figure targets are bad because they inhibit me, and anyway they spoil my concentration. A GOOD EXAMPLE ‘Just look at someone like Allan Lamb. He is my sort of cricketer because, although he has his limitations, he never dodges a situation, or ducks a challenge. In one-day cricket, he is completely different from me. He works the ball about brilliantly, taking full advantage of the lack of close fielders, and the crowd are invariably taken by surprise when they look at the scoreboard, and see how many he has chalked up without doing anything spectacular. ‘Everyone remembers the 18 he took off Bruce Reid in Sydney in a World Series match in 1986. He pulled off the most astonishing win for us; but although he finished with an unbeaten 51 at a personal scoring rate of over a run per ball, he did not hit his first boundary until that final over.’ CONCENTRATION Successful batting depends so much on concentration, and I help maintain mine by switching on and off between the action. Quite often, you’ll see me laughing and joking and apparently fooling around when I am batting. But as soon as the bowler runs in, I block everything and everyone out except how I am going to play that ball. Some players cannot do that, because once they switch off, they have problems in finding the ‘on’ switch quickly enough. Chris Tavar? is an example of that. He keeps himself wound up by going for a walk after most deliveries. Off he’ll go around the short leg area, just to think of the ball he has just faced, and to work out what he will try to do against the next one. I get bored doing that, and so I deliberately think of all sorts of things while the bowler is going back to his mark. Geoff Boycott is another who wound himself up tighter and tighter, and his concentration never wavered. I can’t do that. He could, and there is another instance of the fascination of cricket which is played in so many different ways by different cricketers. Early in an innings, I might keep myself geed up for a while, but I have to revert to normal pretty quickly, otherwise I find my mind becomes cluttered with things which are of no use to me at all. Some batsmen are great chatters, and it is always important when batting for a player to take into account the make-up of his partner. Needless to say, I love to chat in the middle with the other batsman, even if it is not too much about the cricket – unless I think he is struggling and I can help him with any advice or encouragement. It is surprising how often a batsman can lose his rhythm in the middle of an innings, and it is then his partner can help him with a quiet word, and perhaps by organizing the strike, if a particular bowler is suddenly looking dangerous. Geoff Boycott, England v India, Second Test, Lord’s, July 1979. Concentration personified; still head with eyes on the ball. Viv and I batted dozens of times together for Somerset, but I can hardly remember a conversation about the bowlers in all that time. I remember one chat with Mike Gatting at The Oval when we were both just blocking for over after over against Pakistan in 1987. After yet another maiden, I met him in the middle of the pitch and said: ‘Am I frightfully boring to watch?’ He just cracked up, but it helped to break the tension of the situation, and I knew a laugh would not break his concentration. A lot of players aim to bat for a session at a time, but again, while I accept that works for them, once I get time and lack of motion of that sort in my mind, it would be bound to affect the way I play, so not only do I rarely look at the clock, I am not one of those players who checks the scoreboard after every run, to see they have not been diddled. Sometimes I look up after a while, and I am genuinely surprised to see what has happened, but I play in the way I do because various targets which fill other players’ minds, never bother me. The only time I will keep a careful regular check is towards the end of a one-day match, or in a tight finish to a three-day game, where the number of overs left is always so important. Find out by trial and error what your mental limits are, and then evolve your own concentration key. Mine is to switch on and off, otherwise I quickly become bored and tired. Also to keep the blinkers on does not make me a better player, and I am a firm believer in not letting anything worry me more than it has to. RUNNING BETWEEN THE WICKETS AND CALLING There are enough ways of getting out in cricket, without being run out, and yet time and time again, the pressure of trying to sustain a victory charge produces the sort of mix-up when seasoned pros don’t know whether to laugh or cry. When most run-outs are analysed, and the blame apportioned – although there is often more disagreement about that than in deciding who was in the wrong in a car accident – it is surprising how few are unavoidable. By that I mean when the dismissal came about as a result of a magnificent piece of fielding, when it is only justice to give credit to the fielder rather than criticize the batsmen. The other common denominator is that remarkably few run-outs happen because someone is slow moving between the wickets, rather than slow thinking. The most important part of safe running is calling, and the understanding of that call. That in turn means knowing your partner, so that you try to anticipate everything he does. When I first opened in the 1987 Sunday League with Tim Curtis, we could both have been run out at least twice – simply because we did not know each other’s habits. We soon learned, and after a while even a look and a nod was enough without any real necessity to call. So as a general rule, get to know the batsman who, for example, often takes a couple of steps down the pitch after most front foot strokes, even though he is not looking for a run. Find out if any of your colleagues are nervous starters, and are looking at the start of their innings to get off the mark. That does not bother me because it is no big deal if I’m out for 10 or 0. My sights are set much higher than that, and if I play a big innings, I’m looking to trade more in fours and sixes than quick singles – unless of course I want to organize the strike. But I’m well aware that my partner might be different, so I take that into account when I’m in the role of non-striker. As long as the calling is definite, I don’t think it is necessary to stick to the textbook rules which decree that the striker calls in front of the wicket and the non-striker is in charge when the ball goes behind the wicket. If for any reason I don’t fancy something I’ve been called for, I’ll say ‘No’ as quickly as possible before my partner is too committed. England v Australia, Second Test, Lord’s, June 1985. David Gower brings off a brilliant reflex piece of fielding to run out Kepler Wessels. Often when I’m on strike and I have hit one into the covers and called for a run, I have forgotten that there is danger because of a left-handed thrower and I then get sent back. That is fine – as long as it is done immediately, because the real trouble starts when the calling is either late or indecisive. This is particularly prevalent when the ball is played square of the wicket, because the two batsmen have a completely different angle of view of how close to the fielder’s throwing hand the ball is. So be prepared to share the calling responsibility, and don’t shelter behind the official party line that it must always be the striker’s call in front of the wicket. Also remember to keep in mind that every side has at least one fielder who is a bit special. I always mentally slot him into a ‘no go’ area unless it is a really safe run. Into that category come people like Derek Randall, David Gower and Roger Harper for instance who, despite their track records, can still bring off the unexpected run-out which sends the victim on his way shaking his head and feeling he has just fallen for the latest three-card trick. Take Harper’s great run-out of Gooch in the M.C.C. v. Rest of the World match in 1987 at Lord’s. It was breathtaking, and yet despite Graham knowing all about the man he still got done by a couple of yards, although he never went further than five yards out of his crease. I’m told that the great South African cover point, Colin Bland, nailed Kenny Barrington and Jim Parks in a Lord’s Test, despite the whole England side deciding they would not run to him in the covers or at mid wicket. Calling and running depend so much on understanding your partner. My former Somerset team mates Brian Rose and Peter Denning hardly ever called after their first few innings together. A glance at each other would do, and they became just about the best pair of runners together I have ever seen. This was not just because they were pretty rapid between the wickets, but also because they both spotted a run so quickly. They would run sides ragged – the fielders would close in and suddenly, bang – four runs. We played a one-day game at Harrogate and they actually hit something like 70 off the first nine overs with only half a dozen boundaries. But although club cricketers and youngsters cannot expect to develop that sort of telepathic understanding because they play cricket intermittently and not on a day-to-day basis, as long as commonsense is applied, it should not take too long to work up a reasonable understanding. Always take into account the speed of your partner. If he is a bit ponderous into his stride, allow for it, and then try to ensure to begin with that you are running to the danger end. Another thing to consider is the ability of different fielders to get rid of the ball quickly. Find out those who can throw on the turn, and those who cannot. For example, if I hit one a yard either side of Chris Broad, I will take him on, but I wouldn’t Tim Robinson. Chris takes just that split second longer to gather the ball and have a shy. Although I wouldn’t risk much to David Gower when he is running on to the ball because of his uncanny underarm accuracy, once he is chasing after it, I’d chance an extra run as he cannot throw quickly or hard on the turn because of shoulder trouble. It is that sort of attention to detail which solves so many problems before they arise. 3 THE CLASSIC SHOTS (#ulink_ced257fe-3fc1-5be0-a70e-8f71a869c0fd) DRIVING The purists have always said that the real beauty of batting is best expressed by off-side play, and as that is my favourite area, I feel qualified to offer advice about how best to become effective and fluent there – particularly off the front foot. I know that the orthodox coaching instruction insists that the bat and front foot must be together in playing a flowing off drive, but I don’t go along with that. The real destructive cover drives are nearly always played with the bat a bit away from the front leg, in order to gain extra leverage, which in turn helps with power and placing. I am not suggesting that the front foot should be miles away from the hitting area, because that is bound to produce a hit or miss technique, and all successful sportsmen, including good batsmen, have a technique which is repetitive because it has been tried, tested and proven over a long period. But I have seen plenty of well-coached young players stroke a nice copybook cover drive straight to a fielder, simply because they have concentrated so hard on getting the foot right to the pitch of the ball, they can’t hit it very hard, and in any case they can only hit it in one place. England v India, Third Test at The Oval, July 1982; my only Test double hundred. The left shoulder led my front foot into the perfect cover drive. My weight is going forward and the head is still. I’m pleased with this one! England v West Indies, Third Test at Kensington Oval, Barbados, March 1981. A rare luxury of playing spin. The front leg has gone towards midoff, although I have played the ball into the covers. The gap between bat and pad is not normally advisable. The really hard hits come from a little bit of room being created in which a full wide arc of a good back-lift can be fully used. The left shoulder for the right-hander, should be the leading influence, not the foot. Anyone who queries that golden rule should just realize that you can put the front foot where you like, but the shoulder need not follow. But if the first leading movement is with that shoulder, the foot must follow unless you fall over. In forward play, always try to lead with the shoulder, and then the top hand will stay in control of the stroke much more easily. The other key to a successful off drive is to ensure that you have a full and high follow through. Too many players forget about this, and as a result start decelerating the bat in the hitting area. Golf provides yet another valid comparison here because the longest hitters are those whose extension ‘through the ball’ is the greatest. Batsmen should never ignore the importance of finishing the stroke off properly, which means concentrating hard after contact has been made. That way it will be easier to place your shot, and of course to hit it harder. Selection of the right ball to hit confuses a lot of batsmen, and this is why it is advisable to take a few minutes at the start of an innings to assess the conditions. Of particular importance is the pace and bounce of the pitch. On a quicker pitch, the off drive can be played to a shorter delivery than normal, and conversely on a slow, low pitch, the ball must be that much further up. England v Pakistan, First Test at Old Trafford, June 1987. I have gone for the big one, with the top hand totally in control. It kept the blade open until impact, which increased my margin of error had the ball moved away at the last moment. The wider the ball, the more difficult it is to control the stroke. And naturally, the wider the ball, the fuller in length it needs to be to cover it properly. The pace of the bowler also matters a lot, as well as what he is trying to do. Off spinners and inswing bowlers do not give you the same amount of room as the slow left arm bowler or the away swinger. If the ball is moving or turning, then a batsman needs to take extra care with an off drive, because the swing or spin usually takes effect in the last few feet of delivery. When I try to off drive an inswinger, I concentrate on getting my front leg a bit further over, so that I will not be ‘gated’; but when I fancy a dip at an away swinger, I create a bit of room and let the top hand lead me into a full-blooded hit. The reason for this is that if I happen to get an edge, it flies harder and further, and more often than not I get away with it. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/ian-botham/cricket-my-way/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.