Denis Compton’s death in April 1997 touched a chord with many people who never knew him. They instinctively realised that for someone who lived a full and disorganised life, seldom out of the public gaze, he was a wonderfully simple and friendly character. What was surprising was that behind the apparently happy-go-lucky, serene temperament lurked an apprehensive soul, racked with big-occasion nerves as he waited to go in to bat.
The death of Denis Compton robbed English cricket of its most charismatic character. He was remembered by a distinguished former team-mate in the 1998 Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack.
I found this a real consolation, for it showed his human touch. Every top sportsman has butterflies in his tummy when faced with important challenges, but I had never expected him to look so agitated. When I first batted with him in Australia, it was this simple, unashamed expression of nerves – the enchanting smile never far away – that immediately warmed me to him.
It was the smile rather than the nerves that came through to the public. Everyone could also see his breathtaking genius for producing the unexpected and his exceptional gifts of touch and timing – at any ball game. He was so quick on his feet and could move yards down the wicket, sometimes before the bowler had let go of the ball, and get away with it.
Denis would have thrived in any era. I am certain he would have coped with the fast short-pitched bowling of the modern age as well as anyone. And he would have been one of the greatest one-day batsmen, such was his relish for a challenge and his skill at innovation. And he would have enjoyed it all so much. This was at the heart of Denis Compton, the cricketer of exceptional charm.
Colin Cowdrey, played 114 Tests for England, 11 of them alongside Denis Compton.
