Can Anyone Hear Me? Page 23

  The loss of Trescothick from those two tours was worse than just his runs. There was a presence about him that Somerset have benefited from and I believe England did too. I remember him taking part in one of our TMS Report programmes from my hotel room in Colombo and being fascinated by everything that went into putting a live radio programme on the air via a small satellite dish in an ordinary hotel room. He does well in the Sky studio, so when the time comes, which I hope is much delayed by his playing career, my successors in TMS might look to him to join the team.

  Other players were more inclined to take such miracle technology for granted. The team management have encouraged a bit of coverage of some of their charitable doings and so I put Andrew Flintoff live on the air from a playing field in Bombay, where he was visiting the Magic Bus charity in 2006, and Kevin Pietersen had broadcast from an orphanage playground in Multan in Pakistan a few months before.

  Both those broadcasts were for Radio 5 Live and the thrust of the arrival of that rolling news and sport network called for more personal contributions from players. John Crawley recorded regular newsletters from the 1998 tour of Australia. I had no editorial input to those at all, but was just required to send what were fairly lengthy epistles down the line to London.

  It was perhaps more sensible in 2006 in India when they decided that Steve Harmison’s newsletters should be recorded with me prompting him. They would be edited in London anyway. It did mean that he could be guided in what people might be interested in. Inevitably we had to have the team’s media man sitting in most of the time to monitor what he might say.

  Those media managers have assumed a great importance between the team and the accompanying press. They appeared in the nineties, treading the awkward line of trying to be trusted by both sides. Unfortunately, the size of the press party nowadays makes them more necessary, but their need to control things has driven a wedge between dressing room and press box. A journalist with an imaginative idea cannot decide on his interview and get it to himself. The daily interview is agreed between the two sides and carefully monitored by the media manager.

  Thus, when England are on tour, you know that the player quoted in the Telegraph will be the same one whose words appear in The Times, the Mail and the Sun, even if the angle put on his remarks may vary a little.

  At one time, journalists could make friends with a player and get him to talk, having just cleared permission with the manager or the captain. That was probably an age of greater trust, though. I always looked forward to the chance to interview players who were friends, but funnily that could often be far more difficult than recording those I barely knew. It does, I suppose, sharpen you up to the task that bit more.

  I had never really spoken to Angus Fraser until I had to interview him following a magnificent spell of bowling in Jamaica in 1990. I told him that in the press box he was being likened to Alec Bedser at his best and was impressed by the way he seemed genuinely touched by the comparison. He became a stalwart of the TMS summariser’s chair and a good friend, though I wonder if he found the move to the writing side of the media a little harder than he had expected.

  One little on-the-field exchange came back to us in the press box during that 1990 tour. At Pointe-à-Pierre in Trinidad, England seemed to be facing defeat on the final day of their match against the West Indies Board President’s XI. What held up the opposition bowlers was Robin Smith. He was 76 when the ninth wicket in England’s second innings fell, with England just past a lead of 200. His last partner was Devon Malcolm, whose batting was not his greatest attribute.

  Robin manoeuvred the strike well enough to make 23 of a last-wicket stand of 29 and take himself to 99. Eventually, Malcolm had to face the last two balls of an over from Patrick Patterson. He took a huge swipe and lost all three stumps. Smith’s reaction was to throw back his head and laugh.

  At the end of the game, which England won comfortably enough in the end, thanks to the bowling of DeFreitas and Malcolm, I interviewed Robin as the players were leaving the field. He told me that Devon had said to him, as he approached his hundred: ‘Don’t worry, Judge. I’ll play for you.’ Hence the laughter at the ambitious Malcolm air shot.

  It was a typical reaction from an always-cheerful character. He seems an ideal person to have organised supporters’ tours on subsequent trips.

  Playing in that match among the oil tanks at Guaracara Park was a twenty-year-old who Trinidadians reckoned should be getting into the West Indies Test side. He made 134 in the first innings to underline his case. His name was Brian Lara.

  The relationship with the opposition Test captain is variable. I suppose the closest I had was with Sunil Gavaskar, who, despite having god-like status in India, was always very accommodating. Perhaps that was because no one there treated him as a normal human being.

  Lara, when he became captain, was one of those who believed that radio should just take their chances with press conferences and not be granted any special favours. He could look furiously at his media manager when I ambushed him as he was leaving such a press briefing, but he always gave a good interview, even if we had to do it while on the rapid walk back towards the dressing room. He also had the grace to pop into my farewell dinner at Lord’s and say a few kind words.

  Just occasionally an overseas player might seem to be remarkably flattered just to be interviewed by the BBC, as was the case with the Bangladesh captain, Khaled Mahmud. But generally outside England an undue (in my view) preference is given to television, probably not helped by the proliferation of small radio stations in some places. Captains need to be reminded that radio rights holders have also paid substantial sums into their boards’ coffers.

  The managers on tour and their attitude can make a big difference. Raman Subba Row and Doug Insole, who were on my first two tours, were always charming and helpful. Tony Brown, who managed the 1984–85 tour of India that started with Mrs Gandhi’s assassination, was probably surprised to find that in that sort of situation, the press can be quite helpful.

  Peter Lush, who had the unenviable job of handling the fall-out from the Gatting/Shakoor Rana row in Pakistan in 1987, was someone I had dealt with in his role at the Test and County Cricket Board, which involved media matters in the days before there was any liaison person specifically appointed. He was an old friend, but in the circumstances of that tour a heavyweight ex-player or administrator might just have made a difference then and there.

  In later years it became the coach, rather than the manager, who was the principal figure in leading the team. Ray Illingworth probably started that trend in South Africa in 1995. I think he had come to the job a decade too late for him, but he had the enthusiastic John Barclay as his minder there, with the title of assistant manager. By the next winter Barclay was the manager, with David Lloyd – our old friend Bumble – as the coach. Those were two very different but very interesting situations for Johnny Barclay to handle, but then he had had some interesting characters under his command at Sussex. He tackled it all with cheerfulness, enthusiasm and his trademark encouragement, ‘On, on’.

  There seemed no doubt who was in charge when Duncan Fletcher was the England coach, even if he seemed to try to blend into the background. To a certain extent, that seems to have continued under the auspices of Andy Flower.

  Both men captained Zimbabwe and both would know the importance of getting the right man as captain, not just for the obvious on-the-field decisions, but for the whole presentation of the team.

  When Andrew Flintoff took over in the crisis in India in 2006, he was probably the right man for the moment – the talisman of the team. But the following English summer, it was Andrew Strauss, the stand-in for the stand-in, who secured a three-nil victory over Pakistan. To my mind, he was the man to take the side to Australia to defend the Ashes.

  I thought that at the time and not as a result of subsequent events and revelations. I do not think he woul
d have been able to retain the Ashes, but he might have moderated the disaster. Of course, we would not have known the outcome of the alternative course, so it might be just as well for him that he was not appointed for that series.

  Like Michael Vaughan before him, Andrew Strauss conducts himself in a way that makes those of us who care about the way our team is perceived abroad – on and off the field – feel confident. And if they’re winning as well, that is wonderful.

  The Cricket Highlights (viii)

  Barbados 2004

  There was about the England side that went to Bangladesh and Sri Lanka at the end of 2003 the feeling of a new regimen. Fitness was a priority embraced by all and ice baths appeared for the first time. The new captain, Michael Vaughan, had taken over during the previous summer and his predecessor, Nasser Hussain, was now to be found under the helmet at short leg.

  The win in Bangladesh was expected, but they lost one-nil in Sri Lanka. In the new year they would be off to the Caribbean.

  There was no hint over the first three days of the first Test in Jamaica of the way things would eventually go. Devon Smith made a hundred for West Indies, but England, with no one making more than 58 (though there were 60 extras), managed a slender lead of 28 on first innings.

  Saturday 13 March 2004

  My close of play interview with Nasser Hussain, who, like Mark Butcher, had made 58, was about what a close battle it is.

  Then on the fourth morning Steve Harmison just swept the home side away. Starting the day at eight for no wicket, they were dismissed for 47 in an hour and 50 minutes. Harmison took seven for twelve, to leave Trescothick and Vaughan only twenty runs to knock off for a ten-wicket win.

  Six days later Harmison was at the West Indies again, this time in Trinidad, where on the first morning he changed ends after a bit of a pasting from Chris Gayle and from being 100 for no wicket, bowled them out for 208 and figures of six for 61. England took a lead of 111 and then it was Simon Jones’ turn to get at the opposition. His five for 57 left England needing 99 and they got them with three wickets down.

  After two Tests of the four-match series, the Wisden Trophy was retained, but there was still the series to win. Next came Barbados.

  I have a newspaper cutting from the Barbados paper, The Nation, on 2 April 2004 in my notebook. Under the headline ‘What home advantage?’, it first bemoans the domination of English supporters and then the West Indian batting: ‘Home advantage isn’t home advantage these days. And March Madness is now April Foolery.’

  On 1 April, the first day of the Test, Andrew Flintoff had bowled them out for 224, taking five for 58, with Harmison taking another three. In fact, The Nation should have been happy with the second day. Only 119 from Graham Thorpe stood between the West Indies taking a big lead and England’s eventual advantage of a paltry two runs.

  Again, it was the second innings that was decisive. So far in the series, Harmison, Jones and Flintoff had each had a moment in the spotlight. On the third day, bowling the 21st over of the innings, Matthew Hoggard gave the match its decisive push towards England. In three consecutive balls he had Sarwan caught at gully, Chanderpaul lbw and Ryan Hinds, obviously caught completely on the hop by the clatter of wickets, as he had to finish dressing at the crease, caught at second slip. Hoggard had become the tenth England bowler to take a Test hat-trick.

  There was no comeback from 45 for five and we looked down on the ironically unfamiliar sight of England fast bowlers setting umbrella fields behind the West Indies batsmen. The world order was turned on its head. The West Indies were all out for 94 and England won by eight wickets on the third day.

  There was one more Test to come and in that Brian Lara was to take it on himself to restore the region’s pride with his unbeaten 400. It is possible that an earlier declaration in Antigua might have embarrassed England, but much succour was taken from his innings.

  Back in Barbados, as the England players celebrated their series win on the outfield, I watched a liner putting out to sea from the deep water harbour just beyond the stands of Kensington, sailing towards the setting sun. It seemed almost symbolic of the end of an era.

  For England, the building blocks had been laid for the side that would recapture the Ashes in England the following year.

  9. The Talk Sport Years

  In the spring of 1999, I was working hard on preparations for the Cricket World Cup to be held in England that year. But, as always, I was keeping an eye on the planning to be done further ahead and so, early one morning in the office, when I ran into the man who dealt with all our rights issues, I asked if the deal was concluded with South Africa for the coming winter’s tour there.

  The broadcasting rights have to be negotiated for each tour separately with that country’s cricket board and, until this point, it had only ever been a question of bargaining over how much we would have to pay.

  I was told that the South African board seemed to be dragging their feet in responding in an extraordinary way. I agreed to ring Ali Bacher, the managing director of the board, immediately. He sounded evasive, but, when I pushed him, eventually admitted that they had sold the UK radio rights to a commercial station called Talk Radio. He further admitted that they had not sought to find out if we would better Talk’s bid and I discovered later that keeping the deal quiet from the BBC was a crucial part of the offer.

  BBC Television had just lost the rights to broadcast Test cricket in England and this seemed like a moment of crisis.

  I felt that we must be in South Africa to make our presence felt as the brand name for cricket coverage on the radio and so I proposed a round-up on each day, to be called Test Match Special Report. I established that we could use the recorded commentaries of SABC, who would be happy to include one of our commentators in their team. And we would still be able to get interviews – particularly with an England management who were sympathetic to our cause. Our live updates during play itself were restricted to a total of two minutes in each hour.

  The first-ever TMS Report was done at the end of the first day of the series on a day at the Wanderers in Johannesburg when England, after being two for four, had been bowled out for 122.

  We were aware that that frantic start to the Test had caused some chaos with the Talk team, for whom Geoff Boycott (loudly), Chris Cowdrey and Mark Nicholas were operating. I did feel some sympathy for their producer, Claire, who, when I met her the day before, had told me that she had never produced any outside broadcast before.

  Jonathan Agnew, after reporting all day for Radio 5, hosted the programme. Pat Murphy, while somewhat miffed to have had to surrender his usual reporting duties, provided crucial interviews with Allan Donald and Chris Adams, just in time for me to tidy them up for broadcast. To make it sound as much like Test Match Special as possible, I got our regulars, Mike Selvey and Vic Marks, in for the discussion of the day and with a hastily prepared script for the commentary highlights, we were in business. I had decided we needed a signature tune and had selected the opening bars of Toto’s ‘Africa’, which seemed appropriate.

  Thursday 25 November 1999

  I think it’s going to be all right. There were calls from London after the programme from several management people, including the controller of Radio 4, Andrew Boyle. They must all have been as anxious about it as I was!

  It’s been a knackering day.

  We had certainly had drama to report on. In the third over England lost their fourth wicket with only two runs on the board. That was the moment when Michael Vaughan had walked in for his first Test innings. There was something about the way he handled the crisis, although he only made 33, that gave onlookers the feeling that he belonged at this level.

  Unlike the dramatic escape led by Mike Atherton four years before, there was to be none this time. South Africa won by an innings and Atherton, returning to the scene of his finest hour, bagged a pair.

 
As time went on, of course, our operation became slicker. It was always quite tense, putting together a programme within an hour of the close of play, so bad light ending play early was a popular occurrence.

  Test Match Special had previously been something of a pariah with Radio 4, but, as I suppose that congratulatory phone call from James Boyle indicated, in the face of a threat from a usurper, we now had all the political support we could want. That never overcame the frustration of not being able to do a proper commentary – a frustration that was probably most keenly felt by Aggers, who became quite grumpy on occasions.

  We had varying degrees of co-operation in our endeavours. The England and Wales Cricket Board and the South African Broadcasting Corporation were organisations with which we had close ties, but the press officer of the United Cricket Board of South Africa, Chris Day, seemed on a mission to make our lives as difficult as possible, usually allocating us seats in thoroughly inappropriate places. Happily, the local ground authorities were almost always more helpful.

  I had come across Mr Day on the previous tour, when he had been similarly difficult with us. It may have been that he was just one of those old-style journalists who resents radio. And I’ve come across plenty of those.

  Press boxes were not generally ideal locations for our live Test Match Special Report programmes anyway, though we were given no other choice in Cape Town or at Centurion Park. In Durban, we set up a table on an untenanted seating area in the stand and on one evening had to broadcast by torchlight, when the stand lights were turned off just before we went on the air.

  That Millennium tour ended with a unique event in the final Test at Centurion Park. Like all the Tests I have seen at that ground on the southern side of Pretoria, it was dogged by rain.

  After that South African win in Johannesburg, England had hung on for a draw in Port Elizabeth and South Africa had had to do the same in Durban. Cape Town, though, had given South Africa a second win by an innings. The series was theirs.