My Hundred: The Final Five

5: Joel Garner

The West Indies record books will rightly laud the wicket-taking achievements of Marshall, Walsh and Ambrose but it could be argued that Joel Garner was the superior all-round bowler. Somerset scouted him from League cricket in 1977 when he was already 24 and pretty soon not only was he making a huge impression in county cricket but also as part of the West Indian pace battery.

At 6 feet 8, his name was rarely mentioned without being accompanied by ‘giant’. It might not seem so exceptional these days but forty years ago he seemed freakishly tall. I recall standing next to him in 1981 on the Bath outfield during a pre-match warm-up and, when he released the ball, feeling I was in the company of an alien being, such was his height. Of course ‘Big Bird’ used those formidable wings to great effect, generating unlikely bounce off a length and considerable pace from a short, loping run-up. Add in his unplayable yorkers and he had the perfect game for one-day cricket in particular. He was sensational for Somerset in their glory years but his career highlight was probably that explosive 5-39 in the ’79 World Cup Final.  Imagine what he would have been like as a ‘death’ bowler in Twenty20! 

4: Dennis Lillee

In a decade famed for its aggressive fast bowlers steaming in from a forty-metre run, Dennis Lillee was the original and best of the lot. With straggly locks and that moustache, his was the defining image from the 1972 Ashes series when I was just 11. A stress fracture of the back almost ended his career a year later but then, reining in the pace a touch, he was paired with a young tearaway Jeff Thomson on home territory against England with predictable results.

I remember anticipating the pair in the inaugural World Cup but neither really prospered in one-dayers where containment was just as important as taking wickets and scaring batsmen shitless. I never saw him in the flesh but he grew in my affections  during the ‘Botham’s Ashes’ summer of ’81. Notably slower and that hair somewhat thinner and controlled by coloured headbands, he was the epitome of control, seam and swing. With Terry Alderman at the other end, Lillee took 39 wickets yet still finished on the losing side. His total of 355 Test victims was a world record at the time, captured in only 70 matches. Yes, he could be a temperamental so-and-so but Dennis the menace was one of the most delightful bowlers to watch. 

3: Clive Lloyd

Watching him on the News in January 1984 sloping off the SCG pitch, bat raised in gratitude, having made 72 in his farewell Test innings I had tears in my eyes. The Windies lost that game but, as so often during his 12-year captaincy, they won the series. As with Dennis Lillee I had to enjoy Clivey’s performances on a 24-inch TV screen but he was often on show, not only during the West Indies’ four-year tour cycle but also in between batting for an excellent Lancashire side.

It’s hard to reconcile the big-shouldered brooding presence in the slips towards the end of his career with the slender panther-like covers fielder of the early-Seventies. His athletic pick-up and throw was a thing of beauty, just as his hooking and pulling of anything short was thrilling to witness. The 1975 World Cup Final was a defining moment in my cricket education, and  the indisputable Man of the Match was Windies captain Clive Lloyd. I was furious at having to attend Dad’s school fete that afternoon because it meant missing most of Lloyd’s outstanding 85-ball century. Then, with the Aussies needing to accelerate during their run chase his part-time bowling produced the most economical figures, 1-38, in the whole match. He was incredible. The twenty-first century era has given us some marvellous entertainers but, when on song, none could ever match Clive Lloyd. 

2: Marcus Trescothick

Back in the mid-Nineties, Dad and I began to notice a young Somerset batsman proving extremely good value in Fantasy Cricket. As the decade progressed so did his valuation. Prolific for England Unfer-19s he was 24 by the time the senior call came his way. From that moment on, Somerset didn’t get to see much of Tres as he scooped a central contract and made his mark as first-choice opener in both Tests and ODIs. Sadly, several years of intensive cricket a home and abroad were taking their toll.

I was unimpressed when Marcus suddenly pulled out of the 2006 India tour with no explanation. Back then, mental illness was simply swept under the carpet so it was only reading his heartfelt autobiography Coming Back to Me that I appreciated what he was really going through. International retirement wasn’t far away and he couldn’t even face flying overseas with Somerset. Fortunately, England's loss was Taunton's gain and he remained a stalwart batsman for the county for another ten years, breaking all sorts of records as run-maker and slip fielder, delaying retirement until we won that elusive first Championship crown. By 2019, aged 44, he finally gave up! He may have sported number 2 on his back but he will always be Somerset’s number one. 

1: Viv Richards

King Viv never matched Trescothick for longevity and consistency but for sheer excitement, panache and arrogance Somerset has never experienced anything like the Antiguan. He won the very first cricket match I ever attended with a six into the river at Chelmsford in May ’75 and I was at the same ground sixteen years later to witness his final day as West Indies county tourist. That month I watched him on TV walk out to a warm ovation in his farewell Test at The Oval, tears in my eyes and maybe a few in his, too, although he rarely showed any emotion on the pitch. 

In the 1975 World Cup Final it was his electric fielding which stood out but a year later he was astonishing for the West Indies with the bat. He was everything you’d want to see as a cricket fan: charismatic and a thrillingly inventive and brutal stroke maker. He won so many matches almost single-handed, including both domestic and World cup finals, I wonder what else he would have achieved in the T20 era. To be honest, he didn’t always appear to give 100% in run-of-the-mill county fixtures and I supported Somerset for dropping him in ’85.  Nevertheless Viv is not only my all-time favourite cricketer but also my personal icon of any sport.

My Favourite Bowlers of all time

As with music, football clubs or TV programmes, favouritism makes no claim to equate with sheer quality, no matter how passionately the advocate makes his or her case. My personal favourite cricketers cover a wide range from undisputed giants of the game to aficionados of specific counties and/or those with lengthy memories. The list of bowlers is a case in point.

As a child, I loved to watch bowlers’ actions face-on, a standard perspective in the days when the Beeb could only afford cameras at one end. Many of my most memorable pacemen in particular date from that period when I’d channel my studies of the people I’d watched on TV into personations in the back garden. England’s John Snow had a distinctive delivery action but my first fave was someone whose notable quirk was the way during his run-up he held both arms low.

Sarfraz Nawaz was a staple of Northamptonshire’s attack in the Seventies, winning many caps for Pakistan along the way. Although taller than most, it was his moustache which also made him stand out. More recently he has been credited with inventing reverse swing, which has become an essential part of a fast bowler’s armoury.

Talking of cricketing moustaches, as much part of the mid-Seventies as flares and ‘O’ level revision, Dennis Lillee’s facial fuzz was even more recognisable, and remains his trademark to this day. His bristling, bustling demeanour and devastating pace combined to hammer thorns in the side of England on many occasions, from 1972 to the early Eighties, when his moustache was complemented by a coloured headband. He was no shrinking violet, often controversial for the sake of it, but always watchable. Even in his slower dotage, his skill and accuracy knew no bounds. Had it not been for a few brilliant Botham performances, the 1981 Ashes could well have been named after Lillee and Terry Alderman who between them garnered 81 wickets!

In mid-decade, Dennis and Jeff Thomson wreaked so much havoc against the West Indies that Clive Lloyd fathomed that his side needed to meet fire with fire. Thus the strategy of four-man Caribbean seam attacks was born. At first, this looked thrilling. The brutal bouncers, run-ups so long that they began almost from the laps of front row spectators, the prospect of athletic evasive action or humungous hooks for six  all added to the atmosphere of open hostility. The snorting Andy Roberts, smooth-as-silk Michael Holding, Colin Croft and Wayne Daniel got away with almost anything but after a year or two the novelty began to wear off rapidly. The average over rate dropped from around eighteen an hour to eleven, batsmen suffered more nasty injuries and, much as I adored Caribbean cricket, the bowling philosophy was making Test matches increasingly tedious to watch. Eventually the authorities had to introduce restrictions on the short-pitched stuff and minimum over rules to restore the balance between bat and ball before boredom and broken bones took control.

Holding in full flight was a wonder to behold, and his predecessor Keith Boyce always lively but my favoured West Indian quick was Joel Garner. Apart from the fact he played for Somerset, he didn’t rely on a relentless sprint to the wicket to breed fear in the facing batsman. Off a mere dozen loping languid strides, ‘Big Bird’ could deliver a snorting lifter, in-swinger, off-cutter or devastating yorker at will, using his six feet eight frame to the max. He was equally brilliant in one-dayers as first-class matches; nobody has got close to his career ODI economy rate of 3,09 and his 146 wickets were achieved at under 19 runs apiece. Imagine how effective he would have been in Twenty20!

I was lucky to follow cricket in an era chock full of fabulous fast bowlers. Kapil Dev, Imran Khan, Richard Hadlee, Waqar Younis, Wasim Akram, Allan Donald, Malcolm Marshall, Courtney Walsh and Curtly Ambrose were the cream of an abundant crop. In more recent times I have admired Glenn McGrath’s metronomic line and length, Dale Steyn’s rhythmic action and Shoaib Akhtar’s thunderous pace and Chaminda Vaas' impressive set of initials, but where are the English in my list?

Yes, I am impressed by Jimmy Anderson’s ability to swing it both ways but I can’t say I like him that much. A generation earlier, I was a big fan of John Lever’s left-arm swing bowling. Indeed, I saw quite a lot of him playing for Essex. In the Nineties, I was a fan of another left-arm fast-medium-pacer reliant on movement through the air for his success. This Yorkshire-born Gloucestershire pro became a one-Test wonder in 1997 but he secured my loyalty by dint of his name: Mike Smith, of course!

Top-class namesakes are rare, nor are there a plethora of fellow redheads in the sport. An exception is Glen Chapple, who bowled his fast-medium seam for Lancashire across more than two decades. I was at Lord’s for his almost singlehanded demolition of Essex in the Nat West Final of 1996, the year of his one and only England ODI appearance. Nineteen years later, I again felt deeply sorry for him when, in his forties and his hair less ginger than salt and pepper, form and fitness conspired to end his cricket career with a first-class wicket tally an agonising fifteen short of the thousand milestone.

Another long-standing stalwart of the Red Rose was David Hughes. Although primarily a left-arm spinner, he first attracted my attention with the bat. I was watching live coverage of the 1971 Gillette Cup semi-final against Gloucestershire when, in deep gloom and time running out, he proceeded to flay 24 off John Mortimore’s final over to win the match.

Of those who did manage a longer run in the England side, I quite liked Norman Cowans. His run-up was almost Holding-esque but without his fellow Jamaican’s end product. However, my favourite has to be Gladstone Small. Barbados-born, his hunched physique created an illusion of having no neck, exaggerated by the extravagant shirt collars worn at the time. His comical appearance nonetheless disguised a very useful quick bowler and, as well as a Warwickshire favourite, he was Man of the Match in England’s 1986 Boxing Day Test success in Melbourne.

Spinners have barely featured in this chapter. As with many cricket fans, it’s the pacemen who take my eye, all speed, strength and sizzle. There’s something almost primeval about a middle-stump sent cartwheeling by a 90mph nip-backer, which a gentle bat-pad catch simply cannot match. The slow bowler’s art is very different yet just as vital to an attack. Even in England teams featuring the likes of Snow, Willis or Ward, it was left-armer Derek Underwood who earned the nickname ‘Deadly’! If the Seventies and Eighties had been dominated by sneering, snarling fast bowlers, the subsequent decades were marked by the emergence of world-class spinners.

In any other era, India’s Anil Kumble would have been a global icon. And yet it was the record-breaking rivalry between Muttiah Muralitharan and Shane Warne which stole the show. Murali went on to set the amazing mark of 800 Test wickets and he was a magician of such sleight of hand that I could watch him for hours and never work out how he bowled at all, let alone pick his doosra. In contrast, Warne was a straightforward ‘leggie’ who burst onto the Test scene when leg-spinners were as rare as British Wimbledon singles champions. 

I was to have a love-hate relationship with the Aussie. I couldn’t embrace his bleach-blonde, beer-guzzling surfer-dude personality but there was something endearingly basic about that three-pace amble and roll of the wrists. Whilst an astute captain at Hampshire, he never got to lead Australia in their absolute pomp but he was undoubtedly one of the best bowlers of my lifetime. In particular, anyone who can make Mike Gatting so hilariously bamboozled as Shane Warne so memorably did in 1993 has to be an all-time favourite. And this portrait, which I once saw close up in the Lord's Long Room, captures his charisma perfectly.

The Ashes 1975

The first Ashes series I remember with any clarity took place forty years ago. The early part of the 1975 summer was memorable for the inaugural World Cup, about which I have waxed lyrical more than once. The previous winter had introduced England to the twin pace threat of Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson. Now they were bringing their brand of cricket to these shores to thrill teenagers like me, just developing my enthusiasm for cricket.

Australia defeated England in the World Cup semi-finals (through the unfamiliar swing of Gary Gilmour) and gave the West Indies a cracking contest in the final. There followed a four-Test series for the little red urn which would give the home nation a chance for revenge.

England were thumped 4-1 Down Under but at last did end the series on a high, thanks to an innings victory at Melbourne. Even without a sulking Geoff Boycott and John Snow, the tourists turned the tables thanks to a captain’s innings by Mike Denness and Peter Lever’s 6-38. Nevertheless, the Aussie squad staying on from the one-day showpiece was pretty formidable.

Rick McCosker was a very useful opener, Ian Chappell a combative skipper and brother Greg one of the best batsmen in the world. Doug Walters was an old-school, smoker, drinker and gambler yet he ended with a Test average of 48, extremely high back in the Seventies. Rod Marsh was another character, whose wicketkeeping was just as strong. And then there was the bowling. Apart from ‘Lilian Thomson’, Max Walker was a fine exponent of swing and Ashley Mallett offered skilful off-spin.

That’s not to say England were weak. We had world-class players such as Alan Knott, Derek Underwood, Snow, opener Dennis Amiss and all-rounder Tony Greig, so a useful series was in the offing. However. from their standpoint, it didn’t get off to a promising start.

At Edgbaston, Denness won the toss and fielded. Australia notched 359, then on day two, Lillee and Walker ripped England apart. Following on, it was Thomson’s turn to claim a five-for and it was all over by the fourth morning. The match was also memorable for Graham Gooch’s debut. After some great performances for Essex, the 21 year-old was thrust into the Test side – and bagged a pair!

Gooch was retained at Lord’s but there were changes elsewhere. Barry Wood opened, Amiss dropped down to four, while debuts were handed to the grey-haired bespectacled David Steele and Kent all-rounder (as he was then) Bob Woolmer. More significantly, Mike Denness made way for new captain Tony Greig. The result was an honourable draw. Edrich, Greig and Knott nullified the threat of Chappell’s seam attack, and even Gooch scored 6 and 37.

At Headingley, left-arm spinner Phil Edmonds played his first Test, and there were recalls for Yorkshire pair John Hampshire (for Gooch) and Chris Old. England were on top at stumps on day four but were denied the chance to level the series by the infamous pitch vandalism by supporters of imprisoned East End villain George Davis. He may have been, as the ubiquitous graffiti proclaimed ‘innocent, OK’ but cricket fans were horrified that someone could ruin an excellent Test match by digging holes on a length making the pitch unplayable.

I’m not sure whether it was the result of the lost day at Leeds but the fourth Test at The Oval was allocated six days. As such it became the longest first-class game in England. A second-wicket partnership of 277 between McCosker and Ian Chappell took the visitors beyond 500, then the pacemen left Greig’s men to follow on 341 behind. Things looked as grim as the late August weather. However, second time around, England took control. Woolmer, promoted to five, responded with 149, four others passed fifty, and they left the Aussies no time to reach their target.

The series ended 1-0 to Australia, but England had regained some confidence. Gooch’s time would come again and David Steele’s quiet determination and resilience struck a chord with the British public, earning him the BBC Sports Personality of the Year award! Australia would destroy the West Indies the following winter, a result which in turn would lead to Clive Lloyd’s all-pace strategy and a new world order in the sport for years to come.
I doubt whether 2015 will create another watershed in world cricket but hopefully there’ll be plenty of drama and excitement for me and all those teenagers out there looking for new sporting heroes, whatever the nationality.

Gary Gilmour remembered

I've reminisced before about the inaugural World Cup but, following the death of Gary Gilmour, it's only right I should do so again. After all, until that memorable tournament, few had heard of the man from Waratah. He scored a century on his New South Wales first-class debut and a 50 on his Test debut against New Zealand at the MCG at the end of 1973. Gilmour took 2-19 in his first ODI a few months later in Dunedin but his next was the match that defined his career, tragically short as it turned out to be.

In 1975, England was clinging on grimly to its position at the centre of the cricketing universe but it was certainly the place to be that hot summer. Hosting the first global tournament ever and an Ashes series within a few short months, it was a great time to be a cricket-loving schoolboy. One-day internationals were still rare despite their accidental birth three and a half years earlier. As Australia and England met in the first World Cup semi-final, it was still only the 31st fixture of that ilk. The format was 60 overs a side so there was plenty of cricket to enjoy, weather permitting!

We all knew about Lillee and Thomson but Gilmour didn't make an appearance in the competition until that humid Headingley day on 18th June. The clips now form a potent reminder of how cricket has changed in the intervening four decades. Not only did everybody boast a scary full head of hair but the Leeds ground still possessed an air of old-school semi-rurality; mostly low-rise tiers of seats against a verdant backdrop of trees and suburban rooftops rather than the towering corporate pavilions we see at every Test venue these days.

England were highly fancied to win the tournament, largely on the basis of it being 'our competition' and the fact that foreigners couldn't possibly sustain top cricket over a few weeks in an unfamiliar format. That was, of course, ignoring the presence of players such as the aforementioned Aussie pace duo, Glenn Chappell, Clive Lloyd, Rohan Kanhai, Andy Roberts, Sunil Gavaskar, Imran Khan, Richard Hadlee et al. Anyway, Ian Chappell won the toss and opted to field on a day made for swing and seam. It was, in other words, made for a skilful left-arm seam bowler like Gary Gilmour.

Bowling his twelve overs in a single spell from the start, he proved unplayable. While Dennis Lillee was a fairly benign presence at the other end, Gilmour claimed the first six wickets to leave the home team in tatters at 36-6. Four of the dismissals were LBWs to fast inswingers, Barry Wood was bowled by a similar ball while Tony Greig fell to an atrocious shot to a wide one which was taken superbly by a horizontal Rod Marsh in front of first slip. England were skittled for 93 and Gilmour finished with figures of 12-6-14-6.

My misty-eyed memories of the Final the following weekend hadn't included Gilmour's 5-48 as Australia struggled to contain Lloyd, Kallicharran, Boyce and co. He made 14 in the riposte in the fading light of a glorious summer Saturday, but it wasn't to be. The burly left-armer played only one more ODI. He played just a single Ashes Test match, too, taking nine wickets, again at Headingley. By the time of the Centenary Test in early 1977, a debilitating foot injury had left him a pale shadow of that swing sensation who blew away Mike Denness' men just a few years earlier.

By his own admission, his personality and lifestyle would not have gelled with the tight ultra-professional approach to modern cricket which developed from the 1980s. He had a reputation for hard drinking and fast living which made him a popular bloke to have around the dressing room. He was neither the first nor the last Aussie cricketer to fit that particular description; just think Walters, Boon, Merv Hughes and Symonds. Flintoff's pedalo escapade pales into insignificance! However, his charisma, brisk batting, sharp fielding and those devastating in-swinging yorkers might have earned him a fair few dollars at the IPL had he been born thirty years later

Whether or not it was related to his prodigious beer intake, Gilmour suffered more and more from liver problems. He needed a transplant in 2005 and remained in poor health until he passed away today at the age of 62. His rather thin career statistics do not reflect the popularity accorded him in Aussie cricketing circles. Lillee, Thomson and another swing merchant Max Walker boast superior hauls of wickets but Gilmour's 6-14 in that World Cup semi thirty-nine summers ago will always stand the test of time. Watch YouTube to experience swing bowling at its best.

Forget Snicko, bring in Sledgo!

After only one match the 2013-14 Ashes is already being discussed less for the cricket than for the sledging. Maybe that's only in England, in which case it's mainly to deflect attention away from the fact that they were completely and utterly outplayed in Brisbane. However, cricketing mythology seems to suggest that the Aussies invented the 'art' of sledging. Whether it was David Boon, Dennis Lillee, Rod Marsh, Merv Hughes, you'd be forgiven for thinking that making innuendo-laden comments about the batsman's wife could only be delivered by a burly bloke wearing an enormous moustache.

Of course, as with most myths, it's not true. Fielders and bowlers have been giving the opposition 'verbals' probably since the game was invented. It's just that there were no TV microphones around to broadcast them to global audiences. I daresay that early 20th century sledging were less likely to end in 'arsewipe' or 'piss off' a la Hughes and Andre Nel, or have the crudity of 'Here comes the f*cking cheat, the f*cking chucker' (Nasser Hussain to Muralitharan, 2003-4). So why don't umpires step in to stop such blatant unprofessinal conduct? Actually, they have done, but more out of exasperation than in an attempt to restore civility to the game. In his book Cricket, Lovely Cricket? Lawrence Booth recounts the time when Dickie Bird once challenged Merv Hughes after the bowler launched a stream of insults aimed at Graeme Hick: "Mervyn, Mervyn what has poor Mr Hick ever done to you?" He was probably shocked when the hairy one retorted with rare wit, "He offended me in a previous life". For once he omitted the normally obligatory 'arsewipe'!

It may well be the case that Steve Waugh's invincibles took sledging to new heights, or depths, becoming as useful attacking tool as a prodigious Shane Warne leg-break or Brett Lee yorker. Then there was Paul Nixon's selection as England's one-day wicketkeeper apparently for his ability to get into the heads of opposition batsmen rather than for his glovework or runs.

Fast forward to 2013 and poor Michael Clarke has been the one pilloried and fined for his remark to Jimmy Anderson. At least the Lancashire paceman could admit that he has dished out more than his fair share in the field, especially during last summer's tour. Some players just grin or turn away, others indulge in a bit of backchat. Horses for courses. If you give it, you have to expect to take it. Dennis Lillee hated to be on the receiving end but if it made him bowl even faster and more accurately then he would have the last laugh.

Some commentators and friends say they enjoy the sledging as much as the cricket itself, but I can't say I agree. Yes, as a fan, listening to the occasional witticism from a fellow spectator in the stands can be very entertaining. It's just that most shouted remarks aren't funny. The more people have to drink, the funnier they think they are but this is in inverse proportion to actual comic ability!

Anyway if sledging is so important to the Ashes series, why not introduce another broadcasting innovation, the Sledgometer or Sledgo? Let's weed out the pathetic and the merely crude and encourage creativity and wit. In between overs, or when Anderson is adjusting his bootlaces for the 79th time, the 3rd umpire should adjudicate on sledging quality. If poor, the sledger should serve a one-hour ban; if good, he can stay. Three bans and you miss a game. A Sledge of the Match award could be added to the interminable trophy ceremonies. There, Sky TV, that should do it....! I just hope that ITV never get their hands on cricket. Imagine the scenario. Each interval, viewers can vote off their least favourite sledger. By day five, it could be eleven playing against one, and Joe Root will have nobody left to face.

Maybe we should just stick to the cricket after all.....

Why are Aussie fast bowlers always injured?

Maybe it's a case of selective memory but the journey from pitch to treatment table for fast bowlers does seem to be equipped with a revolving door these days, especially in Australia. Of course the pacemen are, and always have been, prone to impact injuries such is the explosive nature of their action. Dennis Lillee's career was almost over before it began yet he learned to bowl at a less fearsome pace, with greater control and he retired as the world's leading Test wicket-taker, and with 882 first-class dismissals under his belt. Brett Lee and Terry Alderman were absent for long periods, as indeed was the somewhat slower Shane Warne. Glenn McGrath had a similar first-class record to Lillee but of course played many more Test matches over a longer period.

McGrath was, of course, part of one of the greatest teams in cricketing history, in an era when physios, dieticians and such like began to form an integral part of the professional squad. As in England, central contracts have reduced intenational cricketers' commitments to their counties or states, supposedly to keep them fresher and off the treatment table. So why does every young Aussie 'quick' fail to play more than a handful of Tests before succumbing to stress fractures, ankle, knee or shoulder problems?

No doubt the ACB doctors could supply the medical details so my question is more rhetorical. However, given that many promising fast bowlers win 'green baggy' call-ups on the basis of barely a dozen first-class matches, some grade cricket and a few Big Bashes, that inexperience would appear to be a potential cause worth exploring. Maybe the selectors have to take a look at themselves, too. With James Pattinson, Pat Cummins, Mitch Johnson, Peter Siddle, Mitch Starc, Trent Copeland, Jackson Bird, Moises Henriques and James Faulkner all having shown great promise, taking plenty of wickets, often at sub-25 averages, why haven't they been given a longer run in the side? Yes, injuries have played a part, yet they have all too often been jettisoned too quickly and therefore have few opportunities to increase strength, stamina and experience to play at the top level. Michael Hogan, now in his 30s and looking an excellent bowler for Glamorgan in T20, actually retired from Aussie cricket to come to Britain on a UK passport to further his career.

The West Indian pace stars of the '70s, '80s and '90s were world-beaters, yet played relentless cricket for their islands, the Windies and, more often than not, English counties. Indeed, Clive Lloyd and the management of those times would recommend young fast men to play for counties or league cricket before they would break into the international side. Courtney Walsh played more than 400 first-class games and took 1800 wickets, more than Lillee and McGrath put together. England looked to Australia's system of a very brief domestic system as a means of emulating the latter's success in Test cricket. They are still pushing to slash the County Championship, a move which thankfully has been resisted.

England did finally attain number one Test status and they remain one of the top nations in all forms of cricket. It was hailed as vindication of the central contract scheme. However, in my mind that owes more to a settled side with very good players and being relatively injury-free than to perceived previous over-playing. Finn and Tremlett have suffered long spells injured in recent years, and Simon Jones has played very little cricket in the past five seasons. Yet the sequence of young Aussies playing and failing physically goes on despite a dearth of top-level appearances. I suspect that the focus on T20 has much to do with it. When used to bowling four overs a day, a few times a week, no wonder the Pattinsons of this world struggle with a 20-over workload.

In the end, I reckon that a successful bowling attack relies on that blend of hard work, raw talent and good coaching. England have succeeded with a number of good individuals and one who has slowly developed into a world-beater, Jimmy Anderson. Ten to twenty years ago, the Aussies boasted a fabulous batting line-up along with not one but three or four special bowlers, McGrath, Kasprowicz, Lee and Gillespie alongside Mr Warne. Were they better because they were fitter, rested more often, pre-T20 era or none of the above? I'm not sure, but on paper Australia is blessed with another squad of excellent fast bowlers capable of emulating the aforementioned superstars. It's now down to the coaches, selectors and the players themselves to resist the temptation to concentrate on T20 riches and get themselves in the right physical and mental conditions to prosper at Test level. They might even get to win a few Ashes Tests in the next twelve months! Mind you, to achieve that, they need to focus on the batsmen, too....