I am so sorry folks. I just haven’t been enthused enough about the Champions Trophy, the Champions League or the current Australia v India one day series to be bothered to post. I am not going to go on at length about Sachin’s brilliant 175 yesterday (amazing how he got out again in sight of the winning post – I reckon his biographer will blame others for that) as I didn’t see it, but at the secondhand exhortation of others, I recorded it on Sky overnight and will try to watch it some time soon.
I am returning, albeit briefly, to this blog in advance of England’s tour of South Africa for a small book review. This one is around 10 years old and is Devon Malcolm’s tale of rags to riches to losing rags in a jaunty little autobiography called “You Guys Are History”. Seriously, given the tone of the book, and the almost apologetically genteel nature of Devon, I find it hard to believe he ever said those words, but mythology and fact can collide.

I came across this book review on Amazon…
Sweeps aside any prejudices of this fast bowling prodigy., 23 Mar 1999
By A Customer
This is the story of who has probably been England’s most tallented (sic) fast bowler in the last 10 years. This book tells his sad story of his unfair treatment from many of his fellow players. His carrear (sic) may have been so much better if he was just left to his natural style and given respect by Ray Illingworth. I still believe him to be the best fast bowler in England along with Darren Gough and this book will sweep aside any prejudices you have of this fast bowling prodigy.
I loved the last word. Prodigy. He himself said he never took up cricket until late, and spent two years not playing. Not sure he’s in the Mozart class for prodigy. And “best” fast bowler in England along with Gough should read for the 90s, “only” fast bowlers. Syd Lawrence disappeared off the scene very quickly, more’s the pity.
So to my feelings on this account. It was a jaunty read, not taking me long to finish it, as this reminded me of a time when English cricket tried to catch up with the Aussies, and yet we still got left in their wake. Obviously when reading about Devon, we want to know about the Illingworth business, and he does go into it but not in the microscopic detail he probably could have (and given this came out when he still had hopes of England appearances, who can blame him for holding back). You did rather want him to get a grip of himself, but he made Illingworth’s England days seem like a reign of terror, with a cowed, frightened captain unable to resist Illingworth and his band of old codgers who wanted to do it like they did in their day.
There were small errors, which annoyed as Pat Murphy (the sometimes snidey 5 Live commentator) comes across as a know it all on the radio and yet doesn’t know (or his proof reader didn’t) if it was Sid Lawrence or Syd in the space of two lines. There was one factual mistake I screamed at, but for the life of me now I can’t remember, so it isn’t in the Richie Benaud class. Annoyingly the book kept calling the Aussie coach of Derbyshire Les Stilman with one “l” when a quick fact-check would have revealed an expected extra “l” in the surname. (Les Stillman). If you are going to ghost-write someone’s memoirs, please do your checking. Odd typos always get through, I know.
Ok to the book. Let me sum it up.
Devon comes from Jamaica, mum died young, dad worked in Sheffield, joined him, joined local club, was a bit too quick, joined better club, knocked over Boycott in a practice match, was not allowed to even think about joining Yorkshire, got a go at Derbyshire, learned off coach, Holding and Wright, and initially Barnett. Couldn’t field, wasn’t a good bat, but could whang it down quick.
Got picked for England in 1989, wasn’t ready, had a terrible debut, England set up was a joke, no discipline, no rigour, no plan, no idea. Went to Windies in 1990 under Gooch, team gelled, he bowled well, got Viv a couple of times, tour was brilliant, thought he was fixture for a while.
In an out of side, liked the Oval, ran through his winning career performance against the South Africans, then fell foul of the Illingworth regime’s ridiculous methods of trying to change him.
He hasn’t had a captain he really enjoyed playing under at international level. Gower was too slipshod, Gooch too inflexible, Atherton too cowed. Didn’t mind Mickey Stewart as coach, although he could be a bit too keen on “hard work”, thought Fletcher was a joke, won’t send a Christmas card to Illingworth, and was more positive about David Lloyd. All his international bowling coaches had two horns, and didn’t know what they were doing. That’s Geoff Arnold and Peter Lever to you and I.
The book is at its best when Devon reflects on the tough times under Illingworth and that fateful South African tour. I’ve now read the accounts by Illingworth, Atherton and Devon on this, and of course, no axe to grind Sir Ian Asperger’s take from outside the tent. Devon went into that series injured, and he does come across as very stubborn in all the accounts about his recovery. That said, the shameful scapegoating of him for losing at Cape Town is a scar that hurts Devon, and quite bloody rightly so. If you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail. Devon Malcolm had not played cricket in a month, was coming off an injury as well, and was expected to win a test at Cape Town when the brains trust put Jack Russell in as high as six. When it failed, instead of blaming management desperation, they blamed Devon. It was wrong then, it is wrong now. Devon may come across in the book at feeling too sorry for himself in the run-up to the test, but when someone like Robin Smith is quoted as being at the end of his tether during that series, it isn’t difficult to see why Devon, subject of some pretty nasty off the record quotes by people who should have known better, went into himself.
To try to change his action seemed daft even with 15 years between the events and now. Every England fan knew what you got with Devon. He was the ultimate “Daisy”. Some daisy he does. Some daisy he doesn’t. He was a quick bowler. It was his only way to bowl. It is what we picked him for. The whole shebang is being repeated now with Steve Harmison. When Harmy bowls quick, he’s amazing. When he doesn’t, he’s garbage. However trying to make Devon a quick line and length bowler is like trying to make me into a front-foot straight hitter. It isn’t the best use of your best ability, and will only lead to confusion. Devon’s frustrations scream out through each page of this section.
I think the best bits are to do with Derbyshire. A few people come out of the book as total arseholes, most notably Kim Barnett and Phil de Freitas. Dominic Cork isn’t far behind. I recall Derbyshire rising up like a phoenix for a short time under Jones and Stillman, who performed the bad cop (Jones) good cop (Stillman) role to a tee. Jones was the typical mouthy Aussie – challenging, competing, in your team-mates face, never be satisfied type – and when his approach run you up the wrong way, Stillman would be the genteel, calming influence asking and cajoling the player to do better. I’m not sure the alienation between Jones and Barnett came directly from Jones dropping Barnett down the order for a Sunday League game, because that seemed small. No, more likely is that a successful Jones / Stillman regime would queer his pitch as Mr Kingmaker at Derbyshire, and while the team were playing well he couldn’t frighten the horses. I recall, because he was in my Fantasy Cricket team at the time, that Chris “the ego” Adams flourished under the Jones /Stillman team and was out the door pretty much as soon as they were forced out. Devon’s refusal to back the renegades is enlightening and revealing. “It’s your benefit” was the threat that was made to him if he didn’t. And then, like that, people refused to turn up at his functions etc. The one who he really rails on is Phil de Freitas who comes across, quite frankly, as a tosser.
All in all, not a bad read, a bit too folksy for my tastes, but informative, enlightening in parts, and really good on the Derbyshire business. It certainly opened my eyes on players views on each other, and I’d love to know who it was in the squad who egged Devon on to tell them what Illingworth had done to him. I was bored with the tiresome Robert Henderson article stuff, but I suppose I needed to be the victim of that to truly understand how it hurt, and I got a bit bored with him saying how he didn’t care if anyone got hurt. You sense his frustration, but I genuinely think Devon got the test career he deserved – he averaged in the high 30s, and was a liability in the field and with the ball. He could win you a game, but when he bowled like a drain, he wasn’t going to help in other ways. But he was right on one big count about bowlers. In Cape Town in 1995-6, England were skittled out below 200 in both innings, yet he got the blame for losing the game. It really is a batsman’s game.