For years and years, I supported England against Australia but, exceptfor brief spells when led by Mike Brearley and inspired by the heroicdeeds of golden-boy Botham, my favourite team of the past proved moreoften than not to have feet of clay.
V Ramnarayan06-Dec-2001If Nasser Hussain is not a true-blue Pom, he is doing a very goodimitation of one. I refer to his column on the Mike-Denness imbroglioin which, like his distinguished countrymen in the InternationalCricket Council and the England and Wales Cricket Board, he adopts aholier-than-thou stance about what constitutes “proper conduct” forcricketers, commentators and administrators, especially if they happento be Indian.Without going into a lengthy discussion of the issue, I cannot helpwondering if the English captain has used the uncertainty caused bythe controversy as an advance excuse for his team’s failures,forgetting that some of his mates’ reluctance to visit “war-torn”India nearly ended the tour before it began. By doing so, Hussain hasdone his bit to perpetuate a recent trend among English and Australiancricketers: to pontificate on matters that do not concern them,passing judgement on the “natives” in the process.
For years and years, I supported England against Australia but,except for brief spells when led by Mike Brearley and inspired by theheroic deeds of golden-boy Botham, my favourite team of the pastproved more often than not to have feet of clay.
Time was when England proved their superiority on the field of play.My earliest cricket heroes were born in Yorkshire, Surrey and Kent. Irefer to the incomparable Len Hutton, Jim Laker, Peter May and ColinCowdrey. It was a time when “Typhoon Tyson” had temporarily dislodgedFiery Fred Trueman from his perch as England’s best fast bowler. Itwas also time when Denis Compton made batting look so easy and GodfreyEvans wicket-keeping so exciting.I remember Cyril Washbrook’s unforgettable comeback in his latethirties, Ted Dexter’s majestic batting, and Ken Barrington’s defiantbatsmanship against the world’s quickest and nastiest. How differentwere Geoff Pullar and Peter Richardson, David Sheppard and Bob Barber,Raman Subba Row and Colin Milburn, Geoffrey Boycott and Graham Gooch.Who could ever forget John Murray and Jim Parks, Alan Knott and BobTaylor? Or Tony Lock and Johnny Wardle, Fred Titmus and RayIllingworth, John Snow and Geoff Arnold, Chris Old and Mike Hendrick?Many of these distant heroes never came to India, but, as a youngspectator, I was dazzled by Dexter, bored by Barrington and Brian Bolus, entertained by Tony Greig, Knott, Keith Fletcher, Gooch and David Gower, even byAlec Stewart and Graeme Hick. There was inspired fast bowling by BobWillis and Neil Foster, and superlative batting by Mike Gatting andGraeme Fowler on different occasions. Ian Botham at Chepauk was but ashadow of his ebullient self at Bombay, where he won the Jubilee Testalmost all by himself.For years and years, I supported England against Australia but, exceptfor brief spells when led by Mike Brearley and inspired by the heroicdeeds of golden-boy Botham, my favourite team of the past proved moreoften than not to have feet of clay.The last time I watched England in a Test match at Chepauk, India tookan unassailable 2-0 lead in the series, despite some good batting byHick, Neil Fairbrother, Robin Smith and an unexpectedly scintillatingChris Lewis. It had been such a comprehensive Indian victory that youwere tempted to say to the visitors: kneel, fair brothers, for onlyprayer can save you in Indian conditions.